Waking Up In Vegas
by Dretastic
Summary: They always say what happens in Vegas, stays there. Sadly when you go with friends, most wouldn't put money on that actually happening. Slash indeed.
1. Get Me Out of Here

**A/N**: Hi again. This entire fic is based off a random (most amusing) idea I had, I know it'll be a multi-chapter; however length I'm unsure of yet. Guess we'll see what happens. All in all, I believe this'll be humor with a side of romance, but again we'll see what happens.

As par usual, hope you enjoy; and of course, reads/reviews/so forth are always appreciated & welcomed~

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"Flight 417, now boarding for Las Vegas."

As I stare down the flight attendant, I have but two thoughts in mind.

At least the numbers don't add up to thirteen; and there's probably not enough coffee, or booze for that matter, to keep me sane throughout this flight.

I'm sure that leads one to wonder why exactly, then, am I standing scared shitless in a line to board a vessel that easily has a place on my top ten fears of all time list?

Simple. I'm a sucker for peer pressure.

I'm standing in this line for the exact same reasons I've smoked, drank, gotten arrested, learned to drive, and fuck knows what else; because I'm an idiot and my friends talk me into it. That is exactly why I'm in this line.

Seeing as the flight attendant is taking her sweet time checking tickets that've already been checked about fourteen times; I'll use this time to fill you in with what you undoubtedly know. I guess I don't mind, its better then thinking about all the possible things that could go wrong with this flight, and the countless ways I could die. Might die.

I'll start with the so called friends, who've yet again convinced me that my life will be meaningless if I miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity. Actually, they're pretty good friends, I'm probably lucky to have them seeing as my usual spasms of paranoia aren't exactly, sane. But then again, they could just find it funny.

I digress, my friends. As far back as I can remember, we've always been 'those other guys' as far as South Park is concerned. Even now, at the ages of twenty-one or bust, we've somehow managed to stay friends.

First would be he who is, usually, responsible for our misfortune, Craig.

I'm not exactly sure when he flipped from I like the boring life, to come on guys what's the worst that could happen; but I'm relatively sure it had something to do with alcohol. That and the fact that he just doesn't care, but I'm not sure that's a surprise to anyone really. Another shocker, college and Craig never really got along. He went about as long as his parents were willing to pay, and then quit. Well quit the school part anyways, he rarely misses the keggers.

Then of course, there's Clyde. The only person I'm aware of that's more gullible then myself. Gullible, unquestioning, and always on board for whatever's going on. He's also still a skirt chaser, and actually.. still in college. But that's due to the fact that, at some point in High School he actually got good at Football, and is now coasting by on a scholarship. A fact, I'll note, that annoys the shit out of my last friend.

The one who, oddly enough, is the reason why I'm next in line to board a death trap.

Token. Sometimes, I look back and assume that he should have been our voice of reason. But he's not, so we pretty much go without. I figure that's because he's either smart enough to talk his way out of the trouble, or rich enough to pay for it. I will give credit where it's due though, that's usually in our favor.

Anyways, it's actually his brains that got us to where we're going, but I'll get to that in just a moment.

Lastly, there is me. Tweek. Ultimately, I feel I'm a total contradiction to how most people figured I'd turn out. So far, anyways.

Not surprising, I still work at a coffee shop. I'm also still heavily caffeinated, and if you hadn't guessed by my enduring feelings towards planes; I'm still paranoid. However, I'm not quite nut house material, and I'm not a total pathetic push over. You know, outside of peer pressure.

This, ultimately, brings me back to the plane.

Remember when I said this was all due to Token? Also, recall when I said he's both loaded, and a smooth talker? Right.

Well, apparently he used the second mentioned skill to talk his parents, who are really the loaded ones, into financing a spring break trip to Vegas for himself, and his friends.

Sounds great, sure. Except for two things.

One, there is two plane rides involved. Even better then one plane ride! And two, you know that saying 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?' Yeah. Sure it does.

"Tweek, dude, the planes not going to kill you—hurry up!"

I groan while I'm pretty sure at least one of my eyes is twitching, and I make no effort to hide the cold glare I give Clyde as he acts like a child in front of me.

And sure enough.

Five minutes into being on the plane, and I already want off. And no, I'm not being melodramatic. Let me explain.

As you may know, most planes have two seats per row, which isn't that big of a deal, unless of course you're me. Which in case, most things are a big deal. In this instance, that means aisle seat or window seat. To me, this means quick escape, or view of death. Sadly, my friends know me well enough to box me in, because they assume I'd make a run for it if I could. Which I would, if I could. Retrospectively, I do not like planes.

To make matters worst, there's a kid in the seat in front of my own; and I don't particularly like kids, either.

The only thing that makes this ordeal slightly better, is the fact that I got seated with Craig. Reason being, they assumed I couldn't climb my way through him when the plane started taking off. Not that I wouldn't try, anyways, if the plane gave me reason to try, but that's not my point. My point is, he doesn't exactly handle children well either. So when the little shit turns around in his seat to gawk at us, he's promptly flipped off and challenged with, "What're you looking at?"

That teamed with his usual deadpan expression, caused the kid to reconsider his options and turn back around. I'm thankful for that, really. Seeing as the flying ordeal is already far more then I'm ready to handle. I'm pretty sure explaining to some brat that, no, I'm not on crack and, yes, we are all going to die on this plane, would send me over the edge. And I'm pretty sure there's not enough coffee on this trap to calm me down.

Speaking of me, and my lack of calm.

Moments after the kid is given the finger, it would seem the plane is ready for action.

I'm guessing, as I can hear doors shutting, and dinging noises. And then, engines. This is all followed shortly, by my desire to freak the hell out.

"Ffffff—" Again, my eye twitches, and within seconds of hearing the engines start up, my fingers are digging into the arm rests. I'm not exactly sure what word my mouth wanted to spit out, I might have guessed it was fuck, but my brain was too incoherently wrapped around the fact that I'm going to die, to actually finish any word and spit it out.

"Tweek, calm down dude.. the planes not even off the ground yet." To my left, I'd put money on Craig either glaring at me, and or flipping me off. I turn my head just enough to see him, seeing as I'm far to tense to basically move any other part of me.

"Not off the ground." I parrot back what he said, twitch again, then turn back to stare at the seat in front of me.

"That's cool. Craig?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it too soon to want to puke?" Yeah. Did I mention that I don't like planes?


	2. It's All a Blur

**A/N**: And I present you, with chapter two. Huge thanks to the reviews and the alerts, they made me so happy. Hopefully I'll knock out the next chapter sooner then later, as it'll be when the amusement actually starts, hurhur.

As usual, any attention is loved, so huge thanks to all who read/review/alert/and so on~

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I was woken up abruptly, from a sound sleep I wasn't aware I fell into, when the plane I almost forgot I was on- jerked suddenly.

"Sweet Jesus!?" It came out in a panicked gasp as I attempted to jolt from my seat, and I probably would have been successful, had it not been for the stupid seat belt, before settling into an anxiety fiddled confusion.

"Chill dude. The plane's just dropping to land."

In an instant my head snapped to Craig, who was naturally calm as usual. Slouching back in the uncomfortable seat as far as he could, and giving me one of his usual looks like I was overreacting. Okay, usually that's the case. However, the plane was doing something that sure as shit didn't seem normal, not to mention, I was woken up by it which didn't help. That reminds me.

"Nng, dude. When did I fall asleep?"

As I'm sure you could guess, sleep isn't something that comes to me with ease. Not even on a good day. Let alone on a freaken plane.

"Shortly after I drugged your coffee."

My expression was caught between deadpan and sheer horror, flipping from one to the other before settling on sheer deadpan. Part of me wanted to maul him, actually, most of me wanted to maul him for doing that to my coffee. A small, very small, part of me was sort of okay with it, seeing as I probably would have spent the duration of the flight having a panic attack in the bathroom. But on principle, I was still thinking hard on mauling him.

That is, of course, until the plane dropped again.

"ARG!!"

Without missing a beat my hands flew to my hair, and my legs jerked up to the seat; my body instinctively pulling itself into an awkward fetal position. Don't spazz, don't spazz, don't spazz.. In-between my mental bursts of paranoid blabble, I could almost make out snickering coming from both Token and Clyde a few rows back. While I'm sure I looked rather amusing at the moment, I was in fact, not amused.

"Craig?"

"Hm?"

"Will you flip them off?"

"Of course dude."

I'm not really sure if he had already done so, seeing as my eyes were glued shut in a pathetic attempt to pretend that I was anywhere else in the world outside of an airplane. Usually, I know he would have flipped them off, but I really didn't have it in me to look; so I'd take his word for it. Even if he did sound almost amused as well. I make a mental note to kill all three of them in their sleep, if I don't die first.

But I don't die, of course. Seeing as that'd make for a pretty shitty story.

I did, though, near trample that kid I told you about earlier. Maybe he'll think twice next time, before dancing in the aisle and blocking the way of people who really hate planes and want off.

And, who also really wanted some coffee.

Sure, I know. I not only survived the dreaded plane ride, but I was in Las Vegas! My first thought should have been about half a dozen other things. For starters, say getting my baggage or making sure I didn't get left at the airport by my oh-so-funny friends. But honestly, I'm me. What more could you expect?

Luckily for the rest of the people at the airport, that I could have potentially trampled as well, there was an ample supply of Harbucks vendors so me getting my hands on a double shot latte took me about as long as it took Craig to locate a place to smoke.

Ah, vices. Always a priority.

With my nerve warming crack in hand, I was content enough to follow the overhead signs towards my second priority, luggage. Naturally that took me a little longer, because signs are confusing and airports are nothing more then ridiculous mazes, but eventually I spotted my trio of familiar faces waiting aimlessly by a turny.. thing, that I assume would eventually have our stuff on it.

Craig, naturally, was looking around with an uncaring look on his face, Clyde appeared to be talking to himself with excitement, seeing as neither of them seemed to be paying attention to him, and Token was probably doing something productive on his phone. None of them did seem to be actually watching for our luggage, but well, that's the usual run of things.

I came to stop near them, adding to the lack of productivity as I attempted to absorb myself with the coffee I had been denied for far too long. Tried to, that is, as seconds later Clyde stopped his rambling on about 'how much fun we're going to have' to better amuse himself with mocking me.

"So, how was the flight Tweek?"

I mustered up the coldest glare I could, shooting it first to Clyde, and then to Token as I noticed him trying his hardest to stifle a laugh, glancing up from his phone just long enough to catch my glare, before glancing down again with a stupid grin.

"Oh it was just great, nng. I don't remember it seeing as Craig drugged me."

As soon as I said it, I shot my glare towards Craig, who was trying to focus on the ceiling while he tried to hide a grin.

Assholes.

"So, what's the ahh, plan?" I offer the question to Token, in an attempt to pretend like the mocking and the plane never happened, and to hopefully get off the topic of both.

"Luggage, Rental Car, Hotel—"

"And then fun!" Clyde cut him off with gusto; seeming unable to contain himself any longer; pft, and people call me a spazz. I guess that was the all around feeling, as Token promptly rolled his eyes, and Craig flipped him off.

"Yes, Clyde, and then fun."

Fun, which naturally meant the countless things to do in Vegas, none of which we'll probably remember due to alcohol consumption. But, I'm pretty sure that's the entire point of Vegas, if I recall correctly.

It took all of about thirty minutes for our bags to finally be returned to us, time which was ultimately spent accomplishing nothing. I did manage to make Harbucks about fifteen bucks richer, and Craig seemed to be trying to out smoke my coffee intake. I would of won, I will note, had then bags taken about ten minutes longer.

But seeing as Clyde broke our silence with a dramatic announcement of "Finally!!" I seemed to of run out of time.

Which was fine, I was ready to get the fuck out of the airport as soon as possible, please.

The guys seemed to be on the same page as me, as soon as we had our shit Token headed off towards the rental car pick up area. Truthfully, I think we would have been just fine taking taxi's but in case you have forgotten, Token was the man in charge. So I'm pretty sure suggesting such a blasphemous thing might have been the death of me.

Which was shortly confirmed when the keys of a Benz were handed over to before mentioned bill payer. How typical.

But I guess I shouldn't complain. Seeing as I wasn't paying, and I wanted out. Even if I was a bit remorseful to the fact that I didn't grab another cup of joe while I had the chance. I'd love to lie right now, and say it's because my friends would deny me my addiction. But in reality, it's because coffee and booze taste terrible together. Which really meant nothing more to me then jager bombs in my near future. Not saying that's bad or anything, or surprising, it's only logical my drink of choice would somehow contain caffeine, right?

Within moments of being graced by the world outside the airport, our bags were shamelessly dumped in the trunk of the car before we all took our respective places inside of it. Which would be, as it usually was, Token and Clyde in the front, with Craig and myself in the back. The norm for us, for the simple fact of smokers in the back.

Mind you, my usual poison is coffee or bust, however when I'm going without I usually fall into the habit of smoking. I've been told this is due to anxiety, but hey what do they know. Not to mention, smoking would surely help the fact that Clyde had no intention of shutting up anytime soon. As soon as the car hit the road, he became our personal little tour guide. Pointing out all the stuff none of us knew anything about, including himself, but that would probably be totally awesome.

I pretty much had to smoke, to keep myself from kicking the back of the seat.

He's really lucky Craig had a full pack on his person, and that the hotel slash casino we'd be staying at was merely blocks away. Otherwise, I may have had to remember the fact that I wanted to kill all of them due to previously mentioned events.

But like I said, it was merely blocks away.

It would seem we'd be staying at the MGM Grand Hotel, and casino. This, I can't say surprised me for one simple reason, Token was paying for it. And when he did something, he did something. Not to mention, when one wants to blackout in Vegas, one should do it in style.

And needless to say, I'm sure, the hotel is amazing. Bright lights, neon colors, flamboyant designs, casino downstairs, and so on.

Even more unneeded details, the room is just as ritzy. We'd be staying in one of the suites, because I digress Token is paying, which would apparently have a few rooms and a few couches to spare. I say apparently, though, because honestly not a one of us looked at the room.

Why?

Simple. Because after all the shenanigans at the airport, and the drive over it's nearly seven in the evening, and we were still sober. A terrible injustice that, with an unspoken agreement, needed to be corrected. So the room wasn't given a second glance, only unlocked long enough for us to toss our baggage in the middle of the entryway, before we promptly left it in favor of retreating to the elevator.

Luckily, considering not only where we were but the exact place we were staying; getting drunk upon reaching the ground floor would not be a problem.

"So!" As the elevator was counting down the floors for us, Clyde took it upon himself to make a game out of the thoughts everyone was having. "Should we take bets on who passes out first?"

Typical.

"Sure dude, my monies on you though." Clyde's tough guy act faltered, as Token called him out with a grin.

"What? Why!"

"Simple, you're too eager."

I couldn't help but match the grin, did I mention how much fun we weren't going to remember we had? Still applies.


	3. I Can't Remember But It's Alright

**A/N**: And I present you with, the next chapter! It does indeed include the lulz, which I hope amuses you, as well as me winging a poker game.  
Forewarning, I know next to nothing about Poker so just pretend that my BSing is logical, please and thank you |D

Also also also, thank you for the reviews and the story watches! Nothing makes me happier then positive attention.  
Thank you, thank you, you're all far too kind! And as always, please enjoy & reads/reviews/attention of any kind is most appreciated!

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From the moment the elevator door opened and unleashed us on ground floor, it took us approximately two hours to go from a group of four, to two.

We had originally taken up seats at the first bar that crossed our path. Two shots in, Craig bailed with a whiskey on the rocks in favor of the poker tables.

The tables are priestly in an area, too far from the bartender. But wherever the tables may be, Craig is currently schooling the people at them at poker. Not only is he actually good at said card game, but as I'm sure one might imagine he's got the deadpan poker face down to an art.

Well, last I heard he was schooling them, anyways. That would have been about an hour ago, when I wandered off to find him to bum cigarettes. I've yet to venture that far since, and seeing as I haven't seen him otherwise, I'd like to assume he's still teaching them a thing or two.

Meanwhile, it wasn't until shot three that we lost Clyde. He had departed with a beer in hand, mumbling something to us about not wanting to black out on our first day in Vegas.

I believe that's lightweight for shots get me too drunk too soon, but I guess I could be wrong.

Which naturally, just leaves Token and myself.

Still at the bar, with the exception of bathroom breaks; And still taking shots, with the exception of a light break we're taking at the moment after shot number six. Because that's a good number to start pacing yourself at.

"So, Tweek.. aren't you glad you came?"

My slight daze from la-la land faded, and I offered my attention back to Token.

"Totally. Because. Getting tanked in South Park? Never an option."

"You know what I meant."

He was trying to rival me with a serious expression, like I really had known what he was talking about. To this I smile snidely, truth be told even if I could recall what he was talking about a few minutes ago to warrant said remark, I do enjoy being a smart ass when I'm drinking and I doubt I would of passed up such an opportunity to act like one.

"Oh no, no. I gotcha. I think we should close tab and go find some hookers."

My expression had faltered from amused, to straight and my tone of voice had followed suit, giving the impression that I was being utterly serious. Maybe I was, stranger things have happened. Like me successfully derailing any meaning Token originally had, if he had one at all. You know, the drunk do tend to ramble at times, and Token's usually good for hearing the sound of his own voice.

"Wait, no. What? Tweek, you know neither of us go for—"

I cut him off with a wave of my hand, and a nod of my head. Like I'm drunk enough to forget I like cock.

"Oh come on dude!" I muse, "This is Vegas, right? There's gotta be man-whores, here of all places!"

My attempts at looking serious lasted only a few seconds longer, until Token deadpanned at me, causing me to snort before falling into seriously amused laughter. I guess both my comment and my mocking amusement were a bad idea, because it would seem Token was drunk enough to go there.

"Oh Tweek, if you're that drunk all you'll have to do is find Craig. If you ask nicely, he probably won't make you pay."

Any amount of amusement I had, gone. I squinted over at him, as cruelly as I possibly could, while leaning ever so slightly closer to him. In attempts of either looking more serious, being more secretive over said topic, or just to do so.

"I'm hardly drunk enough to be having this conversation. Dude."

That's the problem with people knowing things they shouldn't know. Usually they're content enough with the fact that they know something they shouldn't; but when opportunities arise to not only bring them up, but be snide about it as well, well they never miss a beat.

"Another shot it is, then!"

"That's what I thought you said."

I sort of mutter it at him, keeping my glare on him as he starts to ignore me in favor of getting the bartenders attention. I mean, yeah, sure. I could of went there too, I'm not the only pathetic gay at the bar whom has a thing for his friend but doesn't want to tell anyone. Yeah, I could of went there and shut him up. But I didn't, because. Well, really because I'm drunk and I didn't think of it a minute ago, when it would have been a clever comeback.

It took but a minute to get the guys attention, and an offering of two more jager shots. Mine was slid over to me, as Token took his own in hand and lifted it up in a cheering motion. I mimicked, and gave the glasses a clank.

"To secrets."

".. And keeping them that way."

He nodded, accepting this, before we both tipped the glasses back and sucked down the shot; the glasses banging against the bartop in unison.

"What secrets.. I wanna know!"

Startled, with a delayed response, I glanced over to where a tipsy Clyde had apparently found his way back to the bar at last. With a far too eager look on his face, bouncing it from Token and then to me with hopes of one of us enlightening him on details of a secret he really didn't need to know.

However, here was my chance for that before mentioned comeback that hit me too late last time. I retort with an oh-I-don't-know-maybe glance at Token, who quickly looks at me almost uneasy. Yeah who's mister smart ass now.

Only I really have no intentions of telling Clyde. So, I don't. Not because I don't think that'd be hilarious at the moment, but because Token is cruel and would spew out what details I didn't tell Clyde. That, and because I really don't feel like finding somewhere else to sleep tonight, after Token locks me out. Orr, my own way back to South Park. I mean Vegas is nice and everything but I don't really want to live here.

"I'd tell you Clyde, but then it wouldn't be a secret."

"Aww, but I don't want to be left out!"

"Sorry. If we told you, we'd have to kill you. And we're in Vegas, it'd be too easy."

I deadpan at Clyde, only breaking my gaze for a second to flicker it towards Token. He catches it, and we both turn back to Clyde with expressions of upmost seriousness.

"It's true dude. Don't become our second secret."

I have to admit, I do enjoy screwing with Clyde. When he's drinking he's even more gullible then he usually is. Sure enough, at the moment he seems lost and totally unsure if we're joking with him, or if he should actually be worried. I mean it's not like we're normal, I'm paranoid and Token's rich. Anything's possible.

While Clyde is debating on being concerned for his life, I'm growing bored with the running joke. So I grin at random, and swipe my empty shot glass off the bartop, wagging it in Clyde's general direction.

"I guess we could forget this conversation took place if you took some shots with us."

Clyde squinted at me, and then Token, before raising an eyebrow and returning said gaze to me.

"Exactly how many shots have you guys done?"

Seeing as the first thought that came to mind was 'uhh,' I have to admit, that was a pretty valid question to ask.

"…Seven."

I think. Though, I don't bother speaking the last part of that sentence out load. Seven sounded right. Seven almost made me curious, seeing as I don't feel quite that drunk. However, I haven't attempted to stand in a while, either, so I kind of had a feeling I might fall to the floor once my feet touched the ground. And now, I want to know.

With energy fueled entirely by curiosity, which I do believe is usually a terrible motive to do anything, I slipped from the bar stool to my feet and much to my surprise, I didn't fall. I did sway a little, or more then a little, but I quickly stabilized without having to hold onto anything for support. Which was a personal accomplishment, not to mention I'm not drunk enough!

However… now that I'm up.

"Actually, do shots with Token. I want a smoke."

On a normal day, a sober day, I doubt locating Craig would have been all that hard of a task. But seeing as sobriety left town at least two shots ago… I do remember he was playing poker though. However, where the poker tables are located is another story.

So seeing as I have no idea where I'm going, I head aimlessly onto the casino floor; where I'm almost instantly distracted by all the bright flashing lights and amusing noises. I totally get why they love to liquor people up while they gamble.

Sadly for them, I'm not a gambler.

Nope, not a gambler. However I have momentarily forgotten why I left the bar in the first place. I squint, as if that'd help anything, and weave my way around the people who litter the casino floor, passing by the slots which come to a dead stop in favor of tables.

Was I looking for tables?

Why would I be looking for a table?

From my left I hear a collective groaning of people, and with a flare of curiosity I glance in that direction. At first all I could really see was a cluster of people looming around a table; but I guess someone most of just won, as a few people seem upset as they stand up and leave the table. Some of the crowd follows suit, and others shift into the now freed up seats. Overly, that meant nothing to me. Or it wouldn't of if I hadn't gotten a glance at the only person at the table actually grinning.. Craig.

Wait, wasn't I looking for Craig? I think I was..

I turn and head over to the table, stopping behind the chair Craig was seated in. Or at least attempting to, instead I accidently stop too late and end up bumping into the chair before actually stopping.

With an instant heated glare, he turns to say something to the 'offender,' though notices it's just me. His expression turns back to his cocky grin.

"Sup?" I offer him, seeing as I've more or less forgotten why I was looking for him in the first place.

"Well not to bad dude, but I'm sure I'll be even better now that my lucky bitch is here."

For a second his look turns cold as he glances to a girl that is seated in the empty spot at the table near him. I'm going to guess she was hanging out in hopes of getting a piece of the chips stacking up in front of Craig, because she didn't seem to actually be gambling herself.

"Go away."

It came out in a bark that startled both her and myself, seeing as I was kinda assuming she was the before mentioned bitch. She shot him a pissy look, promptly turned it to me, before removing herself from the chair and storming away from the table.

For just a moment Craig turned back to the table, before I guess he noticed the chair next to him was still empty and I was still standing behind him oblivious. He turned back to me with a weird look on his face, before making an equally weird noise at me.

"Sit."

Opps, I guess I missed that part where –I- was the one who was supposed to be sitting down. "Okay~" I say in one of those drunken-sing-song tones, before I ungracefully slip into the chair in-between him and some guy giving me a look. For a moment, I kinda wanted to flip him off, but decided against it because really I don't enjoy getting my ass kicked by strangers. And for all I know, seeing as this is Vegas, that guy could be like.. a mobster.

"Been having fun drinking Tweek?"

I flip my attention from the questionable mobster, back to Craig but instead of replying I just smile at him. Mostly, because I'm pretty sure he knew the answer to his question, before he even asked it. I mean, if it's obvious to me then you know he should have been able to tell.

"That's cool, you're even luckier when you're drunk."

Cool indeed, right? Seeing as I had no clue I was lucky to begin with, for the most part I can't say I've ever felt lucky. Unless a short attention span and constant paranoia were lucky... which in case I'd rather be unlucky.

"Riiight, because what he really needs is more luck."

This came from one of the guys at the table, I believe the one messing around with the stack of cards; whomever it was won a few chuckles from other players, and from a few people looming around the table. Unwavered, as usual, Craig did nothing more but grin at them.

"Jealous?"

To that, the guy offered no response at all, just going back to fiddling with the cards. He probably was jealous. Well, not of me of course, but because Craig was obviously handing them their asses.

Speaking of asses, why exactly was I sitting here again? I vaguely remember wandering away from the bar for something; something Craig had. Oh! With a sudden burst from my memory, I snapped my fingers as soon as the thought came back to me, a noise which seemed totally random and out of place, and it got me a few weird looks.

"Craig, I need a smoke."

"You can't smoke in here Tweek."

I raised a curious brow, which went unseen due to the fact that the cards were being dealt and he was watching them instead of me. I didn't recall telling him I was going to smoke in here. Just, that I wanted one.

Little did I know that had been Craig for the game's about to start and you can't have a cigarette because then you'll wander off again, and seeing as I just called you out for being lucky you'll just have to wait. But, I digress, I missed the memo.

"I.. huh?

"Shh."

Did.. he just shush me? I gawked at him for a second, which again went unseen for the same reason as before, while I deeply considered getting up and walking off. Considered it, until Craig shot me a 'look' from the corner of his eyes. Which I knew very well was Craig for, just try it.

I reconsidered, and decided to not try it and instead just stay in my seat. Like I said before, I'm not a gambler.

This almost makes it a little ironic that I'm sitting at a poker table, watching a game I know nothing about. This is one of those classic situations that drunk people get themselves into. And now, I'm stuck at this table, which probably wouldn't be the end of the world if I a) wasn't drunk and, b) didn't have the shortest attention span, ever.

Usually I'd amuse myself with not being at this table, or talking. But my Craig senses tell me talking isn't any better of an idea then walking off was. If talking fails I'm usually good for just worrying about something, but I have a tendency to misplace my paranoia when intoxicated. So really, my only option is to sit.

Which is exactly what I do.

During my mental pity party, I failed to notice that the players at the table have started doing stuff. They're tossing around chips and cards, and making little statements that would be meaningless to me even while sober. All of it went over my head, though in an attempt to find any amusement with the game at hand, I did zone back to reality while people started attempting to blank their faces.

There's a song about that, you know. Perhaps this game would be more amusing if it was playing. I'm just saying. Saying because for the most part, they just looked weird. One guy looked constipated, another was mouthing words to himself, another seemed like he might pop a blood vessel at any second- than one guy's eye was twitching a little bit. Then, of course, there was Craig.

His expression seemed to be void of all emotion, but only if you didn't know him. I, however, do know him so I know better. He was deep in thought about something other then the game at hand.

It didn't take too long before another round of chips and folds took place. I fell into thought and wandered exactly how long one game would take. Not that I cared to know for personal enlightenment, just curious as to how long I'd have to sit here not knowing what the hell was going on.

Moments later, I was pulled from thought as swearing took place. Everyone looked angry, some guy even tossed his cards on the table with a fury; outside of Craig who's back to grinning.

"You win?"

I probably sounded a little too hopeful, and I finally sat up in the chair.

"Damn straight."

I was going to ask if I could leave now, smoke or no smoke, but I kinda feel like the painful look I know was on my face said more then words could. Not that I minded being lucky, or hanging out with him, but holy crap I was bored. This is boring, I wanted out!

"I think I'm done for tonight, let's get out of here."

I shot to my feet, and fought myself from yelling out 'thank jesus.' Luckily I didn't have too, because the people at the table seemed to be thinking the same thing. More then a few of them sighed in relief, one guy even spit out 'about damn time.' I should probably count my blessings those remarks didn't cause Craig to reconsider leaving. But, he didn't seem to acknowledge them as he collected up all their money and chips.

"I need to cash these in dude, won't take long."

"Yeah dude, sure."

I'm going to assume that meant he wanted me to tag along and afterwards we'd smoke together. Not that I minded, obviously. Unless of course he's just stalling and he's out of cigarettes. Which I guess I wouldn't of minded anyways, and probably would of tagged along all the same. Though, I probably would have been a little peeved that he made me sit through that stupid game for no reason. Unless I was lucky? Which I still didn't understand.

As we reach the money exchange, booth thing, there's a person at the counter already, so I take the opportunity to inquire.

"Hey Craig?" He gives me a glance, and I continue, "Why'd you say I was lucky?"

He looks almost amused by my question, which makes me more curious honestly, and he gives me a smirk before looking back towards the counter.

"You are dude, you gave me something to think about other then the game."

My first thought was, ha I knew it, and my second thought was to be confused. If I was sober, I'm pretty sure that response would of caused me to have an anxiety attack. Why on earth would he want to think about me for? Weird response was weird. In my better judgment, i.e. drunken judgment, I decide to drop the subject at that.

While Craig took his turn at the counter, I stood idly by and gave the casino floor another bored once over before noticing the bar in the distance. The bar where I had left a drunk Token and a secret hungry Clyde. Alone. Thinking back on it, that probably wasn't the best of ideas. Either that or my paranoia was showing it's face again.

"Tweek, ready?"

I blinked at Craig, almost a little dazed as I came back to reality again.

"Yeah yeah."

He nodded and we fell into silence, as we headed in the direction of the main doors. Well, Craig headed in the direction of, I kinda more or less was following him seeing as my sense of direction was nonexistent.

But before we could even make it that far, you know at this point I kind of feel like I'm not meant to have a smoke tonight, we were intersected by both Token and Clyde.

"Hey Dudes."

Craig gives them a slight nod as he spoke, and I again feel weary to the fact that I left those two alone. Clyde is grinning stupidly, but then again that's not necessarily a news flash from the norm, not to mention Token isn't looking painfully guilty so maybe I'm just being melodramatic.

"How was poker?"

"I kicked their asses."

There was a collective grin shared amongst us for just a moment, before Token spoke up.

"We're thinking of calling it a night… thoughts?"

For another moment we glance around to one another, seeming to all be on the same page. After all, Clyde did call it when he mumbled about not wanting to black out on the first day here. There's still like six mores days for that anyways, you know.

With our unspoken agreement accepted, we ditch the common area in favor of the elevators. The silence looms on as we wait patiently for the doors to sound off then slide open. We group inside, and Token hits our floor number.

"So," Clyde breaks the silence as the floors start rolling by, "I wonder who's going to pass out first."

His grin isn't exactly welcoming, and seeing as Token and me have easily out drank both Clyde and Craig; his smile and comment didn't exactly leave me confident. The elevator dings again before the doors open, and upon exiting I give Craig a nudge with my elbow to get his attention.

"Dude, can I bum a few smokes?"

He raises a curious brow, though says nothing as he fishes out what's left of his pack and his lighter, handing them over to me. I take them, with a smile, as we finally head into the room.

"See you guys in the morning," I don't bother looking at any of them as I leave the pack in a particular direction, "I don't trust Clyde… I'ma go sleep on the patio."


	4. There's Too Much Confusion

A/N: First, I'd like state due to RisaShootingStar's review; no I'm not trying to advertise that anyone should drink or smoke. Both are terrible habits, unless you're me and then they're wonderful. Secondly, sorry for taking a while only to leave you with.. this. TL;DR my job is trying to kill me with anxiety attacks, and well, they're winning. Hopefully you will find amusement in this anyways, and here's to hoping I learn to write faster and better soon |D

Last, but not least, thank you for all the reads and reviews~ Even if the thought of responding to reviews gives me anxiety, getting them in the first place seriously make my day!

"Nng..."

I woke up with a series of feelings; awkward, confused, stiff, and for some reason there was an unlit cigarette stuck in the corner of my mouth.

Hesitantly, I squinted one of my eyes open, trying to recall exactly took place the night before and why it had seemed like a logical idea to not only sleep outside on the patio, but to sleep leaning up against a wall as well.

Oh, wait. That's right; Clyde has a funny sense of humor, that's why.

I let out a charming groan, running a hand over the side of my face and then into my hair rather pleased to find that no one had taken it upon themselves to shave my head during the night. All things considering, the day could have started out worst. In an ungraceful manner I pulled myself to my feet, doing a nice job of ignoring my body's aches due to sleeping in a stupid position. I slid the door open, glad no one had found humor in locking me out, and stiffly staggered inside.

For the first time I'm being both sober and inside the apartment, so I give it a glance.

If nothing else, it's nice. Okay, it's really nice. Space, tile, a small kitchen... bar thing, flat screen television, and two couches as promised; one that had a dead-to-the-world Clyde laid out on it. In the entry way our bags still sat in an untouched discarded pile, which at least meant I wasn't the only one styling in last nights attire. Facing the patio window were two doors, firmly shut, and seeing as Clyde was occupying one of the couches it didn't take a genius to know who had laid claim to the rooms.

Lastly, and more importantly I might add, there was a short hallway in the corner of the suite with the door open; which I was hoped to hell was the bathroom, seeing as I didn't feel like waking anyone up in order to get to one.

I headed in that direction, closing my eyes firmly as I reached the door frame and fingered the inner wall for a switch. Once I felt it, I gave it a flick and sucked in a breath, before tentatively cracking open an eye. Much to my approval, the bathroom was spotless which was about the most I could ask for at the moment. With a content sigh, I snapped the door shut and gave a glance towards the mirror.

My reflection told me nothing I didn't already know. That I looked like I got drunk and slept outside on a patio.

I gave an annoyed grunt to the mirror, ignoring it and my reflection as I turned on the tap and stuck my hand under the cold water. In an utterly stupid moment, I cupped a handful of water and splashed it on my face, earning an instant 'GAH.' Really self? Like I hadn't expected the cold water to be cold. Twitching, the water was left running while I busied myself with removing any jager left over from the night before. For a moment, while washing my hands, a shower came into consideration. Would be nice, but there's something that sounds nicer at the moment.

The bathroom was disregarded, in favor of hunting down coffee. If the hotel had a faux-kitchen, then surely it would have a coffee maker of some sort? Hopefully, it had everything else right?

But my plans to seek out coffee were momentarily faltered as I noticed the living room inhabitants had shifted due to a game of musical-sleeping-arrangements I had clearly missed; for a second I wondered exactly how long I had been in the bathroom. Clyde was now AWOL, and had been replaced by a slightly awake Craig and a slightly more awake then him, Token.

Craig had laid claim to the couch Clyde had previously been asleep on, and his appearance was a toss up between shitwrecked and unsure of why he was awake yet, though he appeared to at least be awake enough to smoke. He was still in last nights clothes, though, and his hair looked pretty similar to how mine usually does, shitwrecked.

Pretty similar, but at least he made it look good, which is more then I can say for myself.

Token on the other hand, who was habituating on the other couch while channel surfing on the before mentioned TV, looked ready for another day; if it wasn't for the fact that he was still wearing yesterdays clothes that is. But then again, his hair was in dreads which were pretty hard to wear in a 'bed head' style, not to mention his skin tone easily hid the bags under his eyes. Clearly, mornings would be in his favor if mornings were something to gamble over.

While standing around like a dumbass, I think I may have lost track of time, as I was suddenly pulled from my trance by the sound of Craig snapping his fingers at me.

"You know, dude, they invited the sofa for a reason."

Involuntarily, my eye twitched a little before I frowned over at him. No shit, really?

"I was –Nng- going to look for coffee."

Or at least I was, before I was distracted by, well, nothing. My comment seemed to have left them both scowling, even though I really saw no newsflash in my statement. I mean, what else would I be looking for, you know?

"... Here?"

"Erg- yeah?"

"... Gross, hotel coffee? Really?"

Craig had made the comment so sourly and it was my turn to feel dumbstruck. It really didn't register, such a statement, with words like 'gross' and 'coffee' being in the same sentence. After a few seconds of my awkward gawking, I guess he assumed I wasn't computing what he had said. That would be safe to assume. He was grinning, as if he were proud of his accomplishment, as he pulled himself from the couch.

"Harbucks sounds better, come on."

Truthfully, I would have been happy enough with the 'hotel coffee' when it came down to it. I wasn't a picky addict, by any means. Coffee was coffee. I mean sure, I'd prefer the gourmet stuff, but whatever was available works too. That said, on the note of Harbucks, well, screw the hotel coffee.

Silently, as I felt I really didn't have to say anything, my friends should know me well enough when it comes to coffee; I willingly followed after Craig as he headed for the door, making a quick note that Token was making no inkling of joining our away team. Instead he just smiled at me. Like he knew something I didn't. This naturally caused a wave of anxiety to hit me like a ton of bricks, and usually I would have slammed on my breaks to have a panic attack about it, but I didn't for two very good reasons. I really didn't want to bring public attention to said smile, and... Well, duh, coffee.

I did make a point to glare back at him, though, letting him know that I'm onto him; as well as made a mental note to myself to ask what the hell that was for when a better opportunity arose. You know, after coffee.

The trip downstairs was quick, leaving us to the outside world where it seemed a collection of people were already around & about. Almost made me question what time it was, almost. That's the sort of question I'd actually care about after I had my coffee, before… not so much. Pre-coffee I generally only worried about pointless things. Like where the hell the Harbucks was, and why I wasn't already there.

A very good question, on the topic of Harbucks location, but not one that I got a chance to ask- seeing as Craig had only paused long enough to light another cigarette before heading off to the right. Some deep optimistic part of my mind that usually doesn't work, gave me hope he was heading in the direction of coffee, because otherwise I'd never reach Harbucks on my own. I'm basically permanently helpless when it comes to locating anything on my own. I blame my short attention span. Namely because it's, yet again, caused me to stand around like a dumbass.

Sometimes, it's almost a surprise that people don't keep me on a leash. I'd probably be okay with that, depending on who it was. Ha-ha, I kid...

I take off from my dead halt to a quick pace in order to catch up to Craig, before slowing down to match his speed. He gave me a quick glance as I caught up, before returning his attention to the pavement.

"So how was the patio?"

I couldn't help but frown, eyeing him. Like he really had to ask.

"How was the –erg- bedroom?"

I offered, instead of a smart ass comment, and for some reason he sort of paused. Like he thought something then decided against saying it, which made me a little uneasy seeing as Craig isn't exactly know for tact; even more so because of tokens weird little smile earlier, but I don't remark because I have learned to keep my paranoia to myself sometimes.

"Better then the patio, I'm sure."

Weird response was, kind of... Weird. I decide to go ahead and keep that thought to myself, too, and instead just mutter a 'duh.' I mean, really, I'm sure the floor would have been nicer. But nice hadn't exactly been in my thought process last night.

From there I attempted to drop the conversation, more or less hoping to just fall into silence while he led the way towards what I hoped would be Harbucks. Not that I dislike chatting with Craig, mind you, but I'm not exactly functional without coffee in my system. Let alone articulate.

Sort of like- if I was a car, coffee would be my gasoline, and at the moment my tank is totally empty and I'm having to get towed to a service station...

See what I mean!? Pre-coffee I'm thinking in freaken metaphors!! Jesus, I'm pretty sure if I would have been left to my thoughts right now I'd be forced to have a panic attack over the fact that I'm turning into my dad... Luckily Craig apparently doesn't need coffee to function, so only a few moments of silence pass before he started talking again.

"So one of the guys from the table last night? He invited me to play at the private tables while we're here."

At first I just blink over at him, wondering why exactly he's telling me this. You know, unless he's totally forgotten that I have no clue how to play poker in any way shape or form.

"Arg- that's... cool dude?"

"You should come!"

My first thought was questioning why the hell I'd want to do that. My eye involuntarily twitches as my mind recalls that terribly awkward 'Tweek is lucky' conversation from the night before, the one that I want to pretend never happened.

"Jesus Craig! I don't know how to -nng- play poker!"

"I can teach you."

"Nng."

A stupid not-response noise was really the only thing I could respond to that. Really, I mean I was totally fine with not knowing how to play poker, I don't think my life would be improved /at all/ by learning to play.

"Dramatic much? It's not like I'm trying to make you play strip poker or anything."

I can easily say that's about the last thing I could have expected Craig to retort with. And while it was true, my poor coffee deprived paranoid mind couldn't keep up with its own thoughts as they tried to fathom why on earth he would have said that; so much so that I couldn't even focus on walking, so I just stopped. Actually I'm pretty sure the only sign of life coming from me at the moment was my compulsive twitching.

And I think he noticed, because he stopped a few feet in front of me with a look that was almost... Concerned.

"Uh... Tweek?"

Uh Tweek indeed. After a few seconds of basically just standing there in a zombie like state I shuddered back to life, and began walking again.

"Nng- Jesus. Because I wouldn't look stupid enough with my clothes on."

Much to my dismay, but not to my surprise, Craig just laughed at my reaction and response combo, causing me to sulk. It was pretty tempting to just ignore him and return to the hotel to brood, but I still wanted coffee, butthurt or not.

"Jesus- Can we just get coffee," I question, glancing towards him before adding," without mocking me?"

He nods silently; still looking amused, but seems willing enough to drop the subject while we continue on to the coffee shop I can finally see.

---

It's about an hour later and I'm two lattes fuller, plus another in hand, when we get back to the hotel room. Much to my surprise, the topic of my dire need to learn to play poker hasn't been brought up again. Which is precisely how I hoped it would stay, even if I sort of knew it wouldn't.

Upon entry to the suite, I immediately noted that our two other friends had been quite busy in our absent. Not only had they both managed to change, or bust, but they also seemed to of order the kitchen out of business. The coffee table as well as cart thingy provided by room service were both loaded with basically all food imaginable. Naturally, that caught Craig's attention, and I guess it should of meant something to me as well. However, it didn't, because I was happily full of coffee.

However with all my friends distracted, I opted for grabbing one of my bags from the entry way floor before heading directly towards the bathroom. They could have fun stuffing themselves stupid, like I had already done with coffee, as I felt a shower was in order.

---

While I'm not exactly sure how long I was in there, not long enough to waste all of the hotels hot water, it was apparently long enough for three guys to eat almost all of the food they ordered. Honestly, I'd be lying if I said I cared one way or another, seeing as I'm pretty sure my 'gross hotel coffee' would be left untouched. That was really all I cared about, which is exactly what I'm going to try and locate.

I did my best to weave around the discarded platters in an attempt to get towards the faux-kitchen. Or, at least, that's what I was trying to do before my paranoia went off and I realized I was being stared at. Seeing as I really don't like being stared at, because there's always a reason people stare, I stopped dead in my tracks, and proceeded to wince.

My first thoughts were naturally that I had only THOUGHT I got dressed while in reality I hadn't. I mean, that did happen, like, once. My eyes shot downwards, as I second guessed myself. But alas, I had dressed. Pants, socks, shirt, check, check, check.

Unsure, now, of why they'd be staring at me, I turned my dumbfounded glance to my friends.

"So," Clyde offered me in a far too cheery tone, "You're going to learn to play poker huh?"

Relentless... comes to mind. Among a handful of other choice, equally valid, words. My wince turned icy, but instead of enlightening them on the words I was thinking about, I said nothing and picked back up on my mission to locate enough coffee not to hurt anyone.

"We got you some coffee things from the kitchen," This time Token chimed in, I just loved it when they all schemed against me. See why I'm paranoid? "Check the platter that's on the counter in there."

Relentless bribing schemers. Those are three perfect words to sum up my friends in a nutshell. Skeptical, I lifted the lid off the before mentioned platter, to find that sure enough they had ordered a collection of coffee related drinks. Well, at least they knew how to bribe me. I'd give them that much, sure. Assuming they were all for me, which they probably were so I did, I snatched one at random before placing the lid back down. Didn't matter which one, I'd drink them all anyways.

"Great! Now that you've agreed," My mouth popped open to inform them over the misuse of the word agreed, but before I could even interrupt him, Craig was on the move as he spoke. Quickly locating one of his own bags before heading in the direction of the bathroom, "I'm going to shower; Token's going to explain some shit to you."

See what I mean. It's really no surprise that I'm paranoid. Not to me, at least. Upon Craig's disappearance I turn towards Token, whom seems to be caught between pleased, and fully aware that I don't know a damn thing about poker.

---

By the time Craig emerged from his shower, I had successfully done two things. One, taken down two cups of the previously ordered coffee, and two, reached inconceivable heights of confusion.

Currently we were all sitting on one of the couches, Token in the middle while Clyde and myself perched on the armrests on either side of him. Equally, at the moment, Token was watching me with exhaustion, like he really didn't understand how I could not understand as much as I don't.

"So.. Jesus Christ- color has to do with –nng- what again?"

He winced at me, and really the saddest part of this is that I'm not trying to be a pain in the ass. Really I'm not! While I honestly don't care about poker, or any of the gambling based games for that matter, if my friends want me to learn to play that bad then I'll try. However, I have a feeling just learning what cards beat other cards might kill me. I'm kind of hoping that's the hardest part about the game, because if it gets any more confusing I'm pretty sure I'm going to cry.

"Wait, now I'm lost, what does color have to do with it?"

I almost feel better about my confusion, seeing as Clyde is now lost as well, but not really because I know it's only because of me that he's now lost. Apparently I'm so clueless it's contagious.

"How's it going guys?"

I kinda felt like, Craig's question was really a retorical question, that really he should of known the answer too due to the look on our faces. But to add insult to injury, Token just groans and gives him a pleading look, clearly begging for his sanity to be spared at this point. I can't say I blame him, even if I feel guilty to be the cause of his present agony. But I digress, I'm not actually trying to do this on purpose, I swear! So in an attempt to be more knowledgeable, I give a guilty look to Craig.

"Arg- Ace's are high and.. and," My eye twitches as I try to recall some of the easier points that were spewed at me, "Kings are lower, downhill through.. two?"

Okay, I know it came out in question form, but that's mostly because that seemed to easy and thus far nothing involving this game had seemed easy. That led me to believe that I probably remembered wrong.

"Correct."

"Then, there was something about... Numerical –nng- order, and.. colors."

Which is about the time, I got utterly lost. Things in order, okay I can handle that. Or, bigger numbers beating smaller numbers, I guess that's okay. But then, colors had to come into play, but only sometimes. That didn't make any sense, why would they only matter some of the time? I need more coffee.

I roll to my feet from the edge of the couch, shuffling past Craig's standing position before making a beeline for the counter. Need, coffee.

"I think I'd be more helpful if we actually, just played the game."

While I'm rummaging through the left over coffee selection, I still have three choices you see, I could hear Token commenting about actual… game play. Because clearly, I wasn't confused enough already. But then again, maybe the little pictures would help. Or maybe, more coffee would help. Actually, on the topic of helping, I bet alcohol would help… something.


	5. Complicated and Stupid

**A/N**: Fff so I honestly didn't intend for this chapter to be so short… However, due to my natural talent of being easily distracted and the fact that my friends are enablers, I can't make up my mind on where I was going with it. I also didn't intend for it to take so long to update, but FFFF tl;dr careers suck! I am aiming to fix both of those, though. Also! Thank you all for reviews, and so forth! They make me actually want to write, instead of coming home and banging my head against a wall. Which naturally means they're appreciated and adored~

_Partial Disclaimer? Smoking, drinking, and gambling ahead. Consider yourself warned~_

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So it would seem that my aneurysms are just as hard to read as an emotionless face is when it comes to poker. You know, the whole twitching and spazzing regardless of what your hand looks like, thing. Who knew my weird tics would actually have a use, huh?

Turns out, I wasn't the only one who learned something tonight. Craig was amused by this, as in his inability to tell if I had a bad hand or if I was just acting like myself, for about... the first three games. Now? Not so much.

Currently we're on game number six, and as of the last game he's picked up a new habit of glaring at me. Like glaring would magically cause me to calm down. Instead, it caused me to let out an involuntarily 'GAH!' from time to time. I mean, really? Does he have to glare at me, can't he glare at Token? He won once too. Okay, well I have won three times, which is probably why he's glaring at me. But still.

Not to mention it's not like we're even playing for money- Jesus! We're playing for peanuts, because that's the only thing we had a surplus of. You know, the crappy kind that come in little bags that they give you on the airplane? Yeah, those.

And we only had those because Clyde's weird.

"Erg—Call."

I toss five of my before mentioned peanuts into the 'pot' that's in the middle of us on the floor. This is currently where we're all seated, in the middle of the common area floor, because apparently the only thing our hotel room is lacking is a table with four chairs.

"I fold."

My eye twitches some, before I shoot a weird look towards Clyde. Really? Soon my look, minus the twitch, is matched by both Craig and Token.

"Dude, we're playing for peanuts. Why would you fold?" Token questions logically, before tossing five of his into the pile. "Call, by the way."

"I dunno, I'd rather eat them then lose them."

Clyde is currently the only one who's lost the game each time, so I guess that kinda made sense. But still, gross. As if on queue, he picks up a few to eat, and naturally Craig flips him off before tossing five in the pot.

"Call. And you know, we could always play for something else."

For a second, Craig has all of our attention.

"Like..?"

Token beats us to asking the same question we all seemed to have. I mean, I guess we could play for money, but that's way too much pressure. Not to mention the only ace player here is Craig, and the only one of us who's loaded is Token. At first, Craig just grins, before narrowing his gaze slightly and turning it on me. Automatically, I twitch and regret ever getting roping into this learning to play poker crap.

I am glad he's not glaring at me anymore, however I can't say I trust mischievous Craig facial expressions.

They never lead to anything remotely good.

"We could always play strip poker. I mean, Tweek seemed soo interested in that earlier."

"GAH?! What?!?"

I was half tempted to toss my cards down and run screaming from the room. Actually, I would have tossed my cards down and ran screaming from the room, if I had anywhere else to go. However, I don't, so instead I just sit there. Gawking, clutching my cards, and retrospectively wondering why he would even say such a thing. I mean, I know he's mad that I've won more games then he has, but does that really warrant humiliation?

"Chill dude, I'm only kidding."

It's my turn to glare now, as both Clyde and Craig take it upon themselves to laugh at me; while Token's at least has the courtesy to try and hide his amusement. Too bad Clyde wasn't eating any of his gross floor peanuts; maybe he would have choked on one.

"But the look on your face man," Clyde muses at me, "Priceless!"

Oh, well, I'm so glad they're amused. I flipped from glaring to sulking, giving some serious thought to telling them both where they could shove their poker game. And then maybe locking myself in the bathroom. Sure that's a total chick move, but we'd see who was amused when they had to race to the lobby floor to take a leak.

"Okay, okay—show you're hands dudes."

Our hands are tossed in the center; I had nothing but a pair, Token beat me with three of a kind, and naturally Craig won with a straight. His mister smug attitude gained a point, that it really didn't need, and he collected the cards up. Pausing only for a moment, to make some weird-amused noise at Clyde.

"Dude you had a Flush."

"Huh?"

See! I knew color was important; I so made that point, a few times! Clyde should have listened to me, and then he could have had all the disgusting floor peanuts he wanted. What an appealing jack pot.

"Soo guys. Really. What's the plan for tonight?"

Clyde was back to whining as he asked, but… he did have a point. What was the plan? Not that I really felt the desire to give Vegas a run for her money or anything, but surely we didn't come all the way here to just sit around the hotel and play card games and make fun of each other.

"Well," One word in and Craig is already speaking in his high-and-mighty voice, nonchalantly collecting the cards as he paused just to be a prick, "Considering both you and Tweek need to get better at gambling before we can really hit the tables."

"Nng- Hey!" I blink, stupidly, while making a point to interject, "I didn't do that bad!"

"Yes, but you were guessing… weren't you."

I blink, again, before narrowing my eyes at Mister Smug and his snappy comebacks; my mouth still hanging open in a gawk while I… really had nothing to shoot back at him. Clearly, I should just quit while I'm ahead.

"Exactly, so, why don't we play with liquor."

It came out, more of a statement then a question, namely because it probably was a statement and not a question. So typical. While waiting for objections to overrule, Craig took the opportunity to toss the cards in a pile & light up a cigarette, clearly expecting that he may have to fight his case.

"Losers take shots?"

Token questions him, instead of arguing. Which is basically a bad sign for my sobriety and well, sobriety.

"That would be the idea."

There's a seconds pause, before Token smiles and nods which is in toe, followed by Craig doing the same. More or less setting the plan in stone. This is usually how it goes down. Craig comes up with an idea, Token debates or agrees, Clyde accepts his fate submissively, and then I have a ridiculous paranoid fit over whatever it is and then get coffee.

This time however Clyde and myself accept out fate silently, as Craig smokes triumphantly as Token stands and heads off in the direction of the phone. He's followed shortly by Clyde, who's probably hungry again and wants to order half the menu, again. The thought of food crosses my mind for a second or two, before it drifts to common territory. Within a second, a particular liquid popped in my head and I did my best to spin around without actually removing myself from the floor. More or less giving the impression that I was trying to snap my spine in half, instead of actually turning.

"Get coffee too!!"

---

So I feel I can say this with confidence, that thus far my life hasn't been drastically improved by learning to play poker. Okay, sure, it's not like I have it down to an art or anything, but still. I can't say I'm feeling enlightened.

A little tipsy, and very much reassured to the fact that Wild Turkey and coffee do –not- taste even remotely okay together; however I've yet to reach a new plane of existence.

That said; I have reached a new plane of not being able to keep my attention on this game to save my life. And don't think that adding liquor to the game has helped at all either, because it hasn't.

Only a few hours have passed, tops, since the genius idea of making losers take shots went into play; and I do believe that idea belongs in the 'Craig's-Not-So-Great' idea category. Words like Tweek, learning, poker, and liquor don't belong in the same sentence, unless words like isn't, and taking shots of, are also included.

In fact, as Token starts dealing the cards out across from me, I take it upon myself to change my entire battle strategy.

Okay, so honestly I really didn't have a battle strategy to begin with. Namely because I was hyped up on caffeine to begin with, and thinking that much about anything is way out of my league. However, now, I'm officially tired of this game. So the battle plan to hell with poker, take shots instead… is now in effect.

Not that I'm an alcoholic or anything, but when in Rome… right?


	6. Send Out an SOS

**A/N:** Hi again. I attempted two things here. One, to make it longer, which I feel I kinda accomplished. And two, type faster, which really didn't take place. Mostly because I do in fact, love Jager, and it's really hard to type coherently when drunk. Trust me, it's a good thing I didn't try. Anyways! Here you go! I hope you enjoy it, you'll notice we're heading into some dramatics. Just some for now, but oh, there will be more.

As usual, thank you for all the reviews, I appreciate them all because I have my moments of being a total attention whore, and they make me feel special.

_Light Disclaimer? There's some gambling, some drinking, and well that's it. For now. Enjoy~_

_

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_

All of my strategic plans for failure lasted for exactly, two games. If it counts for anything, though, I did lose them both very successfully; and I probably would have lost more if Clyde wasn't the definition of a whiner.

Okay, so even if his nagging complaints were pretty much the same thoughts I'd been having since we started playing, that's not the point. At least I was trying to entertain myself one way or another. That's so less then I could say for Clyde, who shamelessly made no attempt at self-amusement, whatsoever.

This is boring, I hate poker, I keep losing, we could of done this back in South Park, I want to go do stuff, you guys are lame… you get the point. Though, I'm not really sure what going and doing stuff would entail; seeing as Token did stock up on liquor. Not to mention, Clyde clearly sucks at gambling; I may find it boring, but at least I'm only losing because that was my goal.

But, after the last burst of 'guuuysss' the playing poker thing was finally shot and replaced with a game that was even worst.

Now, if there's anything paranoid anxious people hate it's more reasons to be paranoid and anxious; namely more reasons to worry, regardless of their rationality. Because of this, the entire horror movie genre falls, easily, on my top ten things to fear. Not as high up as planes, but still totally on the list. See, some of the movies just make me worry about what I would do if I was stuck in such a situation, and others just make me obsess over all the 'logical' ways a zombie apocalypse could be started; specially in South Park.

But most of these movies, oh, most of them cause my anxiety to fly through the roof as well as send me into a state of severe paranoid insomnia. I can't sleep because some guy will kill me in my dreams if I do. And if he doesn't get me, the dude with the chainsaw is going to slaughter me the next time I leave my closet. It doesn't take a genius to guess why I try to avoid these types of movies like the plague; like my life, or sanity, depended on it.

And that is exactly why I'm oh-so-enthusiastic to join my friends in a fun-filled game of drink beer every time someone is murdered. Oh yes, this game has 'Tweek' written all over it! I'm pretty sure there isn't enough of anything in the world to make me see this is a good idea. I'm pretty sure I'd rather die of alcohol poisoning before I willingly took part.

Alcohol poisoning, or nowhere to go. Either or.

And seeing as I do in fact, have nowhere else to go seeing as my friends are so clever; I was forced to endure. Endure, meaning, spend the entire movie with my eyes either closed or staring at the floor; and shaking. Hearing it was bad enough, thanks, I really didn't need to see it too.

This was in fact, easier said then done.

I had somehow got stuck sitting on the couch with Craig, the one that directly faced the TV. To the side the other couch was claimed by Clyde and Token, which was the couch I'd rather be on. And despite me not exactly being a big guy, my friends were sprawled out. Probably on purpose. Not to mention, but I will anyways, Craig is the one who just loves movies where people die. Loudly, and gruesomely if he can help it. Oh, it was awesome.

But I did survive it, meaning like I physically survived it. Not mentally. I'm pretty sure I won't sleep for the rest of the week, give or take a day or two.

At least they, they meaning Craig as both Clyde and Token had somehow passed out towards the end of the movie; were nice enough to not watch something that would further damage my mental state. Because truthfully the thought of falling asleep was laughable, and I really didn't need anything else to worry about. I was actually very good at finding my own reasons to worry, though I didn't get the chance to think of any, as I was soon lightly elbowed in the side.

Involuntarily I jerked, than gave a sideways glance to Craig.

"Why were you losing on purpose?"

My natural response was to stall, which I did, because honestly I didn't know how to tell him without going into panicked-Tweek-ramble mode. Not to mention, he almost looked… hurt? But that made no sense really; did a stupid card game really mean all that much to him? Jesus, that's weird.

"Did you hate it that much?"

"Gah! What? No dude, it's just –Nng- freaken boring."

His expression really didn't change, and within a second I felt bad. Oh man, if the game DID mean that much to him, I just called it boring. Nng… and before I could stop myself, I went Tweek on him.

"Jesus! No! It's just that, erg— there's trying to remember all the hands, and then which one beats what! And gah, then betting! And, Jesus Christ!? I have to try to look serious too, and that's just WAY too much pressure! Craig, I just can't focus that much at one time!"

I ended my ramble with a gasp for air, quickly feeling guilty and tossing a glance to my other friends who… were still sleeping. A little bit of guilt, and a little bit of self-loathing. Seriously, were they so used to my spasms that I was just like, like, white noise? I could feel my eye twitching a little as I thought about that, I'm pretty sure being white noise is a bad sign. A bad sign that Craig, apparently found amusing. I shot my glance to him; he was obviously holding back a laugh as best he could, but that didn't stop him from giving me a pitiful look.

"God you're such a dork, you know that?"

I twitched and considered punching him in the face. Why, no, I wasn't aware I was a dork on top of oh-so-many other things; thanks for letting me know, jerk. But, I suppose being a dork is better then being white noise…

"I'ma get to bed.. G'Night Tweeker."

He gave me a light shoulder-to-shoulder bump, before sauntering off towards the room he had laid claim to the day prier.

Cool.

Now, now I was left a couch, everyone else sleeping, and an entire night to do nothing but have anxiety filled thoughts about the countless ways I could die. All thanks to the movie that I had tried so hard to ignore. Nng, awesome.

Needless to say the couch, as well as the central air, was a lot nicer then the patio had been. Even if I did only get an hour, two hours tops, of sleep. Really, that didn't surprise me. In fact, I'm a little shocked I even slept that much, I could have just imagined it. I do recall having a lot of time to spare, time I had tried to fill being productive. I do like to make an attempt at multi-tasking, while having my little insomnia attacks. Helps to keep my mind off why I can't sleep in the first place.

So I did get a shower in. Err, as well as cleaning up the hotel, playing a few games of solitaire, and trashed the floor peanuts. After I counted them. There were 279 of them, which I feel, is a lot.

I also tried out that hotel coffee. Turns out it was alright at best. I mean, even if it was terrible I would have drank it anyways; there's no way in hell I was going outside, at night, by myself. No way man, no way.

All that side I eventually still ran out of things to occupy myself with. Ultimately it ended with me falling into a zombie like state of watching near muted cartoons, and kinda watching the occupants of the other couch. They had fallen asleep, I still can't fathom how, and pretty much remained leaning against one another the entire night. Or, actually, they did remain exactly like that, I'm pretty sure I would have noticed otherwise. With the lack of sleeping I did and all, I had the spare time to notice stuff.

But all things generally come to an end. Just like their sleeping. In this case, it was completely my bad.

I had been attempting to slouch into a more comfortable position, but totally miscalculated where I had stuck the remote, and I ended up accidentally elbowing it. Naturally, because what can I say I'm amazing, this caused the volume on the TV to fly off the handle and blast whatever noisy show I had it tuned to; at max volume. With my typical 'Sweet Jesus—Gah!!' response in toe, I attempted to make a grab for the stupid thing to mute it, but it was too late.

Immediately, Token shot up; and as soon as he did the forces of gravity caused Clyde, whom now lacked someone to lean on, to flop on his side where he otherwise, went unphased. I should mention that Clyde is, by definition, not a morning person. Regardless if the morning is actually morning, or afternoon. He's really not a waking up person, I guess.

Token on the other hand, morning person or not, was now clearly awake. Not as awake as me, because obviously I didn't really… sleep. I kinda guessed it was obvious, from the weird look he was shooting me. But then again, maybe that was because I was the one who woke him up. I repeat, whoops.

"You never slept, did you."

His 'cheerful' statement-question sounded kinda groggy, and honestly I didn't have enough sleep or caffeine in me to actually tell if that was a question, or a statement. If it was a statement, I don't think he was looking for an answer. But I wasn't sure, so I just gave him a "Nng." Figuring, one way or another, that'd answer his question if he wanted one.

Which, I'm pretty sure he didn't. Because he made no further attempt in conversation, and instead just stood up and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

---

It wasn't much later; approximately however long it took for three showers, a round of breakfast and for me to locate a Harbucks; that we found our way to the Vegas Strip. Why exactly, I'm unsure, but knowing Token I'd take a stab at it being so he could tell his parents about something other than how drunk we got. And to locate something to bring back as proof that it happened. I could be wrong, but that's my guess.

Anyways, the Strip. In a nutshell, it's like my worst nightmare. It's bright and shiny, even during the day, it's busy and alluring and if I was left here alone, the overwhelming stimulation could easily be my demise.

Luckily, I'm not here alone. I have friends, and they're doing a relatively good job of keeping track of me. Because, yes, I am just like a child. And yes, I will wander off and get lost. Or I'll just stand around sipping coffee all day, losing track of time and space before ultimately getting killed, kidnapped and sold on the black market, or maybe hit by a drunk driver.

"TWEEK."

Instantly I snap back to reality, kind of unaware I drifted from it, and made a swift point to catch up from where I had been left behind. Traveling onward, I made a strong effort to keep my focus on following… and my coffee. Until I ran out of coffee, of course, then my focus went to shit.

"So –Nng- Where exactly are we going?"

I half expected there to actually be a plan, and I'm not exactly sure why that is.

Long story short, we had never been those guys with a plan. Usually there was just an unformed idea, and then we fleshed it out later. Looking back, that's probably not the brightest idea. Turns out, the leap before you look approach was our battle plan today too; because the only responses I got back were a few dumb looks and a shrug at best.

So the majority of our day had been spent aimlessly wandering around, which is pretty much the story of my life so I can't say that troubled me. In fact, I barely remember much of the day. I do vaguely recall there being a lot of walking. And streets, and like performances on the street. There had also been a crap load of places to eat, most of which had coffee; most of which I demanded. And then, there was this one particular place. Oh, I remember it quite well.

Basically it was like, a mall with a river in it. And there were boats involved and, really? I did not want. And don't assume I kept my opinion to myself either, because I sure as shit didn't. Even if they did end up dragging me on the boat against my will, I didn't go down without a fight.

Needless to say I doubt they'll be trying to get me on another one anytime soon. Especially after I punched Clyde in the face. Lesson one, that I feel he should have known by now, never attempt a sneak assault on a paranoid person. It never ends well.

---

Now I recall making a point to state that all things come to an end. Usually speaking, they are good things. Good things, like ignorance. Not that being daftly unaware is the textbook definition of 'good' or anything, but it is known for being blissful. Frankly, because what you don't know usually can't hurt you.

And that, is what's about to end.

The night had started in the same fashion most peoples did when they were in Vegas. You know, at some establishment that serves alcohol. In our case, we had ended up at a place that had something to do with Irishmen. It kinda looked like a stereotypical pub, and man they really love beer. That's cool, I mean I'm not huge on the stuff, but they also had a thing for whiskey; not that I'm really huge into that, either, however I can work with whiskey.

So there were shots, and there were beers. There was also Clyde whining about his nose again, like I could really hit that hard or something. And then, at some point I seemed to have found myself in the bathroom with Token. I'm not exactly sure why, namely because I've been getting better acquainted with whiskey tonight. Not to mention, regardless of how gay you are, guys generally don't need companionship to take a leak. That's a chick thing.

But all the same, there I was, washing my hands and considering another rekindling when I noticed that Token was just kind of… chilling. Suspicious, was my first thought, causing me to narrow my gaze at him; before a shot fired off in my head causing my eyes to widen with near horror.

You see, unlike a lot of people, Token has a conscience. Not to say he's moral, not by a long shot, however I do know he's capable of remorse. And he's the type of guy, when feeling regretful feels the need to repent. So when he started to open his mouth to say something, I beat him to it.

"You... didn't." For one reason or another, the two words came out in a whisper. As if it would change something after the fact. And when he just sort of glanced at the floor, more or less in the form of an answer, it caused my first lightly inebriated response to come out Clydesque.

"Toookeeeen. Whhhy?!"

I should mention, so I will, there's a reason I haven't told Craig that I have a boner for him. A simple one, actually. It isn't because Craig is homophobic or even unmistakably not gay. In fact, it's pretty known that either team is just fine with him. The simple fact of the matter is; we're friends. And falling for your friend, you know, just isn't really proper etiquette.

Really, if I had wanted him to know, and wanted to make our friendship totally awkward I would have let him know already. But the fact that I haven't, you know, kinda means I didn't really intend to.

"I don't know man, it just… happened."

My eye twitched, as I attempted to decide how exactly I would kill Token… and then Clyde. Not that I really wanted too, they were my friends after all, but I feel like it might solve my problem somehow. Or maybe it would just make me feel better. Which goes with saying, I'm not feeling really well suddenly.

Maybe it's because a stomach full of whiskey and coffee don't play well together, or because I didn't sleep last night, it could even be because Clyde isn't witty enough to grasp that he shouldn't tell people secrets. Hell, it's probably all of the above, but whatever the reason; I suddenly kind of want to take a nap.

"I think.." I paused for a second, while debating ending the sentence with I want to kill you, "I think I feel sick. I'm.. nng, I'm going to go back to the hotel and sleep."

I know sleep was illogical last night, but I suppose I can give Token this much; he's officially made m stop worrying about serial killers. His response was a nod at first.

"I'll tell 'um."


	7. Calm Before the Storm

**A/N:** Ooomg. I'm sorry this has taken me so long. Srsly, I wish I had a good lie to back myself up with, but honestly ahha, I don't |D I also know this is kinda short, two fails in one chapter go me right, BUT with that said I really liked the idea of ending this chap where I did. Fff, so I clearly… did. Why? Well, the chapter title says it in and of itself. Because I'm terribly mean, and I wanted a chapter of amusement before moar drama. Here's to hoping I can keep SAI closed and, er, write.

Annnnd like I never fail to say, thank you thank you for all the reads, reviews, alerts... and so forth. It pleases me, greatly, to know that I'm not writing for no reason whatsoever |D Ffff, I hope you enjoy~

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You know one of the most awkward things to wake up to?  
Overhearing a conversation about yourself.

"_Did he actually say what was wrong with him?"_

"_No, but I didn't really want to ask. You know he's pretty much a hypochondriac."_

"_No shit, but still. I mean, he must have felt like shit to pass out for so long…"_

"_Yeah, I don't think I've ever seen him really sleep."_

"_Clyde, shut up dude. He sleeps."_

"_And how much would you know about that Craig?"_

"_Dude, seriously. Shut up before I hurt you."_

I guess I should feel flattered, really, that they're concerned about me in the first place. Even if they're starting to make me paranoid. I mean Clyde's right; I usually don't get a lot of sleep, what if something's seriously wrong with me? What if something I ate yesterday was tainted, and instead of just anxiety I really have food poisoning. Or parasites? Now that I think about it, didn't that one movie start with a zombie pandemic all because some dude ate a fucked up burger at a gas station?

Not that I ate anything that came from a gas station, but I did drink that hotel coffee! Despite what my friends said about it. Zombies make a lot of weird noises too, which is totally something I'm guilty of. Oh god, and people always randomly feeling sick and tired right before they die and then reanimate. Shit!

Before I could stop myself, my thoughts went into overdrive and I started to panic.

"AHG- I DON'T WANT TO EAT ANYONE'S FREAKEN BRAIN!!"

I was more or less screaming it out, as I jolted over the side of the couch to my feet, like my life depended on it. Chances are I would of gone into a panicked frenzy over all the similarities I share with the flesh-eating undead, if it wasn't from the noises coming from behind me throwing me off guard. I'd be so lying if I said I wasn't worried that this shit was already spreading, that'd totally be my luck. Going on some spontaneous trip and ending up a zombie, where I spread the disease until someone blows my brains out.

Whirling around proved that the noises were not caused by infection… but by my friends shock. I guess my outburst had apparently caught them all off guard; causing Clyde to choke on whatever he had been eating, Token started laughing almost immediately at me, and Craig seemed charismatically unphased as he exhaled a breathe of smoke and gave me an apathetic look before opening his mouth.

"Well, Tweek's fine." As soon as Craig finished the word fine, I yelped at him.

"GAH! How can I be fine?! Nng, I'm going to die and turn into a zombie!!" I whined out.

I was tugging on my hair with both hands, obviously worked up about my impending death that no one else seemed all that concerned with. Craig and Token were staring at me blankly, but Clyde must of finished hacking up his breakfast and was now glaring at me about it.

"Yeah," Token made a point to rub salt in the wound, "He's fine."

Jesus, I was not fine. I'm so totally not fine. I mean, even if I wasn't seriously concerned over my death, I was still spazzing. That hardly qualified for fine. Not to mention, you know… Jesus, what if I do die?! My eye twitched, and otherwise I made no motion to suggest I had any intentions of calming down anytime soon.

"So, why exactly are you going to turn into a zombie?" Craig questioned me, with a clearly amused tone to his voice despite the fact he was probably trying to help me rationalize.

"Arg! I… I drank the, that hotel coffee…"

Okay so honestly I drank a lot of coffee yesterday. As I do, everyday. From many different sources, too. But the hotel coffee had been the only one that tasted under par, so clearly it was the one that deserved to be blamed. Seemed logical to me.

"Ew, you actually drank that shit?" Clyde was clearly grossed out by the thought. Not only from the strained tone of voice he questioned me with, but from the near wincing look on his face as well.

"See! Gah!! Even Clyde agrees! Sweet Jesus, I'm going to die!"

Clyde's smooth comment from a second ago won him a slap upside the head, probably for encouraging my paranoia. Not that, I really needed encouragement, I could blow things out of proportion quite well on my own. What I did need, though, was coffee. Coffee that wasn't from the shitty coffee maker in the room, which I no longer trusted. Not that me needing coffee was ever a newsflash, I'm pretty sure it's a good sign… right?

I mean, don't the living dead want people? I mean I guess it could be, like, flesh flavored coffee or something. Maybe, coffee flavored flesh? Both sounded disgusting though. Completely disgusting.

With my epiphany in mind, I let out a sigh of relief and finally dropped my death grip on my hair.

"Nng, okay. I think… I think I need some coffee."

--

Several hours and two cups of coffee later, I've found myself in the hotel suite with just Clyde.

Apparently, for one reason or another, my friends have lost interest in room service, and upped for locating food elsewhere; some part of me would guess it's due to my episode over the hotel coffee. I, on the other hand, already know where Harbucks is so I upped for lingering in caffeinated bliss, indoors, instead of joining in on the food adventure. I'm pretty sure Clyde would have happily joined them, but seeing as I'm 'under the weather' they, i.e. my friends, collectively decided they knew what was best for me. Turns out that apparently Tweek shouldn't be left alone, just in case he starts to die or something.

I'm also fairly certain I know why Clyde decided to take one for the team and babysit me. Not saying we don't get along or anything; actually, we get along dangerously well. Seeing as Clyde isn't exactly a whiz kid, and I have a serious case of ADD and all, combined together we're a force of unfocused immaturity that's not to be reckoned with. Usually speaking that's the reason we're not left alone, bringing me back to my earlier assumptions over why he agreed to get left behind in the first place.

However, assumptions or not I haven't the slightest intention of calling him out on anything.

I'd like to note, I'm doing a bang up job of doing nothing.

Presently, I'm sprawled out on the suite floor with half a finished cappuccino balancing on my chest, staring up at the ceiling. Clyde's imbedded in one of the couches, flipping through channels idly in-between spurts of texting. Totally thrilling, I know, but again no intention of breaking the silence. For the before mentioned reason, as well as because I have a nice little coffee high going and I don't want to lose it. Trust me when I say they are indeed few and far between. And when I do manage to find myself in one, one of these periods of near rational thought, I like to take the time to reflect on… stuff.

Currently, I'm wondering if I really do drink too much coffee…

Well okay. I mean obviously I drink too much coffee. But I mean like, to a point where I can't help but wonder if it's really the foundation for my anxiety, paranoia, short attention span, and who knows what else. Not that I plan to cut back, Jesus! No way man! But still, I wonder sometimes.

Like, maybe if I wasn't so cracked out on caffeine most of the time, I wouldn't let things bother me so much. You know, like the whole Clyde knows things he shouldn't know for example. Maybe that wouldn't get to me at all! I'm sure if I had the ability to rationalize the situation, I could find some degree of solace. But to say that I have the ability to rationalize any situation on a constant basis would be a lie, let alone this one.

Even now I'm not thinking about it, and instead thinking about coffee. Makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

That was until; I'm pegged in the side of the face with some unidentified object.

"GAH!!!"

Within an instant my world comes crashing down on me, and I react to it as one would expect me to when I'm taken completely off guard. I yelped out a random noise-word as I bolted to my feet, causing my cup of coffee to fly off to the side where it landed with the lid popping off and the drink inside splashing all over the carpet. Naturally I didn't notice that, yet, as I was too busy freaking out over what had attempted to kill me.

In a burst of frenzied movements I brushed off my face and shirt, and was in the process of running my hands through my already disorderly hair… when I noticed the near hysterics coming from Clyde.

"Oh… My… God… Dude!!" His words were coming out in chunks, in-between his attempted gasps of air.

Instinctively my eye twitched as it slowly dawned on me it was him who had tossed the… something at me.

"Jesus!! Dude! Erg- The fuck?!"

I was attempting to sound serious, even if my voice was squeaking from my shock. I even gave him a daggered glare before I glanced down at the floor to look for whatever it was he had thrown at me. And that was about the time I finally noticed my deceased coffee.

"DUDE!" This time, I made no attempt to sound anything other then mortally wounded, mimicking the look of it too before scooping down and snatching the almost empty cup off the floor.

"Agh!! You freaken owe me a coffee jerk!!"

With that, I chunked the cup at him; hitting his head with it dead on, before it flopped in his lap and what was left leaked onto his clothes.

"HEY!"

"GAH!"

Then, the forces of immaturity took control and in a blur, everything within arms reach became fair game.

The cup was tossed back at me, I smacked him in the shoulder with a TV guide, he hit me in the knee with the remote, I nailed him in the stomach with a shoe, he attempted to suffocate me with a pillow, I somehow tripped over my removed shoe causing him to laugh at me, so I snatched it from the ground and pegged him in the face with it. It sounds brutal, I know, but after I got him in the face I couldn't hold back my own laughter because the look he was shooting me was priceless; causing him to start laughing all over again just because I was laughing.

"Truce?"

Clyde even dropped the pillow, attempting to be sincere with his request to end our war. I agreed, with just a nod, before pointing up at him from where I was still seated after tripping.

"You still owe me –nng- coffee, though."

"Yeah yeah coffeewhore, I know."

Ceasefire in tact, he planted himself on the floor as well.

"Crap. Now I forgot what I wanted your attention for.." Looking a bit lost, I figured I'd offer him a suggestion.

"Because… you're a freaken jerk?"

His initial response was to sulk, while mumbling something almost inaudible to the effect of me being the jerk. For a second or two, I considered reclaiming war against him just because he had the audacity to call me the jerk. He had clearly started this, AND, and he made me spill my coffee. I might of restarted it all the same, if he hadn't suddenly jarred my thoughts due to his recovered thoughts.

"Did you get sick due to Token telling me about Craig?" He questioned with a look that appeared almost guilty.

Honestly I wish I could say he deserved to be guilty; and he might, depending. But I reserve that judgment for now, and instead shrug and let my eyes fall to the coffee stain soaking into the floor.

"It didn't –erg- help."

For a moment we share a silence. Again, despite how we usually bicker with each other, which is usually brought on by our shared childish antics, Clyde and I actually get along. I trust him and all, just not with confidential knowledge. Really I'd tell him this, but there's no nice way to tell someone you think they're an idiot.

"I didn't tell him, if that's what you thought…" He started, causing me to wince with some of that guilt. "But even if I had, would it really have been the end of the world?"

Part of me really, really, wanted to blurt yes at him, but in all honesty I wasn't all that sure if it would be or not. I mean, I do assume it would be catastrophic, but I also assume the government is putting subliminal messaging into TV commercials as a ploy to control our minds; so my best judgment is hardly rational in most scenarios.

"Dunno. Maybe?" I give him honestly, with a half smile, because I guess I really didn't know.

But, equally, I wasn't really sure I wanted to know. Preferably, I'd like Clyde to just forget it like he manages to do so many other things. Pretend like he never knew to begin with. However, I don't get the opportunity to offer him the suggestion, due to the suite door swinging open. It startled both of us, causing me to yelp out an 'AH!' as we both whipped around to face Craig & Token's return.

Apparently, dumb startled looks were abounding. Clyde and me look shocked due to the sudden jarring of our previous conversation and privacy, and I'd put money on theirs due to returning to see the aftermath of our epic battle.

"Do we… want to know?"

Token was wincing as he asked, probably bracing himself for the impact of whatever nonsense we were going to spew at him. Craig on the other hand, seemed most interested in what caused this particular mess, as he usually was. Needless to say, it's common for the two of us to act like children. In a split second without missing a beat, I tossed an accusing finger at Clyde, causing him to gawk at me like I was going to sell him out. Which I totally was.

"Nnn—He made me spill my coffee!"


	8. You Killed the Owl, You Freed the Dove

**A/N:** I... really need to like learn to stop being so easily distracted by nothing. Or to stop being indecisive and re-writing things five times |D Being compulsive and writing are a bad combination, I've learned. Ah, so! Here you go~ Hope you enjoy, are amused, and/or end up wanting me to choke on my coffee. I'm not entirely sure which should be the correct answer here… but all the same I hope you're.. something'd.

And of course! As always, always, thank you everyone who takes the time to read, alert, favorite and especially review. I never reply to them, because social anxiety is a terrible thing but trust me when I saw they mean the most to me~ True story.

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One of the nicest things about staying in a hotel, I've learned, is the fact that you don't have to clean up anything. The stain on the floor from hours ago is still there, and the cup that I had tossed at Clyde's head is still somewhere on the couch as a reminder that he still owes me another cup of coffee; another cup that I'll doubtfully ever get. Not to mention my other shoe somehow went missing. I'm not sure exactly where it went but, I'm pretty sure it's here somewhere.

I'd be looking for it, but at the moment I have bigger problems.

"Tweek, dude." Token was starting up again while giving me his holier-than-thou look that I'm pretty sure he coined off Craig; complete with hand on hip to emphasize his annoyance with me. But that look doesn't work for Craig when he tries it on me, and it isn't going to work for Token either. I retort with a glower, before crossing my arms and glancing away from him entirely.

"Ack- Man there's no way they have rules about what you freakin' wear."

I wasn't buying it, specifically because I wasn't interested in changing clothes just to drink inside of some club. That was just silly, and I was going to fight it; even if I was the only one fighting. The rest of my friends had conformed, ditching their jeans for slacks and totally ripping off my buttoned up shirt look. Mid sulk I noticed Craig moving towards my front, which should have been my cue to run. But I didn't, because I hadn't had enough caffeine to rationalize that quickly.

"Tweeek." Clyde cooed at me. I knew that tone of voice… that teamed with Clyde's hands on my shoulder caused me to cringe, almost bracing myself for something bad. Probably in the same manner I'm sure animals do when they hear the firing of a gun. I'm probably thinking the same thing, too; Oh shit, I'm fucked. Sure enough, by the time I tilt my head to glance at him, my fate was sealed.

"Go dude!! Grab his legs!"

"Aargh!?" Was all I could managed to squeeze out as Clyde hoisted me by my arms at the same time Craig grabbed my legs in a teamed conspiracy against me.

"Holy fuck- Guys, not okay!! Not okay!! Put me –Gah- down!!?" I was attempting to plead with them about this, hoping maybe if I sounded pathetic enough they'd put me down.

However, they were ignoring me as they carried me along like baggage. Behind them Token followed with a shitty grin, carrying an arm full of my previously rejected clothes. I guess I should have, could have, attempted to fight them over this injustice; but I was sorted of conflicted between how badly I wanted to fight, and how worried I was that they might drop me. Ultimately, I decided that I was okay with being a conformist as long as I didn't fall to the ground and break my neck.

Not more than a minute later, I was locked in the bathroom. I'm not sure exactly how they managed to lock me in the bathroom, seeing as the lock was on my side of the door and not theirs. But ghetto engineering is a skill they all excel at; so it's probably safe to assume I wouldn't be let out until I changed. That's okay; I can learn to live with the stupid pants that actually fit me.

Well, actually, I would have rebelled against them still, had the bathroom had a coffee maker in it; just to spite them. But seeing as there wasn't, they had clearly won this round.

---

"See, it's not that bad Tweek." Clyde was mocking me, probably just because he could, as we stood near the elevator waiting for it to reach our floor. A few hours have passed since they let me out of bathroom after meeting their demands, and needless to say I was still butthurt over it. Not so much because I was forced to change from my comfortable loose-fitting jeans to some tight black pant-things, but because they had resorted in locking me in the bathroom to get what they wanted; that was still pissing me off.

Even as the elevator doors opened, locking me in a small confined space with them, I made no attempt to do anything other than brood and try to ignore their existence. Not that it was making an impact or anything, as they're all just smiling with one another like the jackasses they are, but I'm just saying it's not stopping me from feeling sorry for myself all the same.

The elevator ride wasn't more than a minute or two, and soon it was alerting us to our arrival on the ground floor. The doors opened and we exited, me getting a soft elbow to my arm by Craig as we did so, which I replied to with a stare and an 'Hng.'

"Geeze lighten up buzzkill. Talk about water the bridge." Craig was musing at me, probably in an attempt to get me to remove the stick from my ass. A civil attempt, but I still wasn't interested in peace treaties.

"How about I lock you guys in the freakin' bathroom –Ahng- after I spill your drinks, then it'll be water under a bridge." I offer coldly, without making eye contact with any of them. Honestly I didn't care all this much about attire. But they had carried me to a bathroom and locked me inside, so on principle I was going to act like a child.

"You're never going to give this up are you?"

"I will when you buy me another coffee. Jesus! I mean that shit's expensive!" I snapped at Clyde, making sure to give him a pissy look. I mean sure it's only like five bucks, but that crap adds up fast when you drink it like I do.

"I know, I know. You've told me this already. If I promise to get you one later, will you stop acting like a little bitch?"

"Only because you offered so politely." I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I commented, sticking my tongue out at him as we maneuvered in the direction of a night club that was 'conveniently' located inside the hotel. Honestly that apology was about as mature as Clyde got, so I shouldn't really complain. Usually he'd just counter me with equally childish behavior, and ultimately it would result in us getting kicked out of wherever we were at the moment.

Wouldn't be the first time that happened, and I doubt it'll be the last.

---

As far as 'this club is the shit' standards are concerned, I'd like to say this one probably exceeds the general expectations. However, seeing as South Park lacks anything even remotely resembling a club, I don't really have much to ground for comparison. But I'd still like to say it's pretty much awesome all the same.

Even if it's probably a bad idea to put a person who's constantly distracted by nothing, in a place overflowing with nothing but distractions.

So anyways, the club has pretty much an overabundance of essentially… everything. Music, noise, lights, space, bars, and people. I'm also pretty sure there are more people in just this nightclub, then make up South Park's population. Not saying that's a shocker or anything, because honestly I don't think there are many people with the life goal of living in a small town that's freezing cold and a magnet for having fucked up shit happen to it. The idea of living in a place that's a magnet for over glammed distractions is way more appealing.

Unless you're a person who lacks the ability to sit still in normal situations. If you're like me, even a few hours in a place whose foundation is sensory overload is a bad idea.

And that's the precise reason I've yet to sit down. The longest time I've yet to stand in one location was the ten minutes when we originally got inside, and that's only because it took Token that long to open up a tab and for me to get a drink in hand. Second place was when I noticed the bottle was empty, and I had to wait at the bar to get another one.

With the exception of brief little moments in time, I've pretty much been wandering around by myself for the past few hours. Outside of the moment I'm taking currently to admire the view, because it actually has one. The club itself has two floors, because clearly when something is located in Las Vegas a single floor just isn't enough, and currently I'm on the second; leaning haphazardly over a rail that I'd usually avoid in fear of falling to my death. Below me, spanning out, is one of the several dance floors and looming overhead there are collections of spinning lights and disco balls.

To say the least it is attention grabbing, if only for a moment, and it does a good job of explaining why so many people come here.

"You know, I've actually heard good things about enjoying yourself opposed to just watching other people have fun."

My head snapped in the direction of the unexpected, and potentially unwelcomed, attempt at conversation. I had assumed for a second it was one of my ever witty friends, however turns out not so much. Just some random guy who was dressed like he had the club scene down to an art. He was partially leaning on the same railing as myself and partially invading my personal space. Also, he was looking at me, which instantly creeped me out.

I could have better understood this situation I've somehow found myself in, had I been a chick. Or like a cross dresser. Maybe even if I was Butters. But I wasn't any of those things. Okay, sure I'm kinda short as far as 'guy' standards go, and I'm sort of skinny due to high levels of caffeine intake and how I often forget to eat; BUT I'm still obviously a dude. So I'm not really sure where this is going, seeing as I really doubt he's here with the intentions of making new friends.

"Nnhg, that depends on who you ask." I gave him a wary glance, which easily matched the tone of my voice. I wasn't sure what this personal space nazi wanted from me, but it made me partially worried about emitting some form of messed up gay radiation.

"Well I'm pretty sure if anyone said otherwise they'd be lying to you." He stated, matter-of-factly. Like he was the authority on the topic or something.

"Jesus… That wouldn't be the first time."

"Then you must know some pretty shitty people."

"That's debatable." I countered, with an uncaring shrug. Not that it was really all that debatable, all things considering I was probably lucky to have friends at all. Even if they spilled my life force and locked me in bathrooms.

"Really? Is that why you're at a club drinking alone?"

My eyes narrowed slightly, giving Mr. Assumptions a cold glare. Sure, I could have called touché, but really! Who the hell calls out someone they've met before, Jesus! But before I could wrap my thoughts around a snappy remark, I felt an arm sling around my shoulders as someone leaned into me. It almost seemed as if Clyde had been waiting for his cue to magically appear.

"Who's drinking alone? Tweekers?" There was a bit of a pause, as Clyde blinked over at me before turning his look back to the smart ass. "No, no. He just wandered off."

For a second I was feeling dumbstruck over all these positive comments about my life, before the light bulb went off in my head. Taking the ball and deciding to run with it, I slipped an arm behind Clyde and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah I- Ack! I tend to drift off sometimes. I'm surprised they don't put me on a leash." I offered the almost truthful comment, it probably would make everyone's life a little easier if they actually kept me on one. Even if it would cause a few stares, stares just like we're getting now from this guy, whom had clearly ran out of his witty remarks.

"Oh dude, kinky. I'll be sure to let the guys know you're into that sort of thing." Being smart asses or not, I think Clyde looked a little bit overly amused. I made a mental note to never go near a pet store with him, but for the sake of getting the creeper I didn't know out of my personal space, I made no attempt at stopping.

"Well- actually, now that you mention it…" As soon as I started the sentence, from the corner of my eye I noticed Clyde and me were being abandoned when the hint was finally taken, and with an amused grin I dropped what I was saying mid sentence to watch in a bit of a silent triumph.

Only a second or so passed before Clyde dropped his arm and busted with delayed laughter. "Dude, that was great!"

"Gah! Just in time too, that guy was so weird." Because, clearly, anyone approaching me at random should be considered weird.

"Who was he?" Clyde questioned me, rubbing one of his eyes as he recovered from his laughing fit.

"Nnhg- No clue dude," I shook my head as I spoke, shrugging a little, "He just –Gah- started talking to me."

"We let you wander off for a few hours and already guys want in your pants," Clyde tutted at me, giving me a sly look, "I wonder what Craig would say about that."

And that was about the time my amusement in this conversation bottomed out, causing my look to follow suit and become nothing short of troubled. That was the sort of comment that would probably be overlooked by most, but my constant paranoia rarely allowed me to miss things that can be taken out of context and/or blown out of proportion.

"Why... would he say something about that Clyde?" I really hoped the accusing tone in my voice wasn't justifiable, and that I was just jumping to conclusions like I typically did. But the look on his face dropped, and he suddenly appeared like a kid caught in an underhanded act, which more then spoke for itself.

"…Clyde." Gah! Déjà vu, much? Only this time it could potentially be so much worst from when Token had originally sold me out. This could be astronomically worst. "Gah, when did you…?" My words were coming out in almost squeaks, I'm almost a little surprised I could talk at all, even if I still couldn't manage to finish my sentence.

"Um, like," He winced, causing me to wince. "Like two days ago…"

Instantaneously I froze, letting out a whimper, while my thoughts floored themselves into hyper drive.

Because sweet Jesus! Craig does know. He knows, no. He's known?! That's way worst then him just finding out! If he's known for days already and made no comment about it, then clearly he wants to pretend like he was never told in the first place! He'll probably never speak to me again because he'll feel awkward around me and thinks I try to watch him in the shower or something. Like… like some fucked up creeper?! Oh man, fuck! If he thinks that I bet he's totally going to tell everyone when we get back to South Park and they'll all hate me, and I'll be an even bigger outcast then I already am! Gah! I'm going to have to move to another state and change my name?! Shit, this is seriously way too much pressure!!

As I'm having a mental breakdown internally, I'm pretty much oblivious to what's happening outside my head. For all I know, I could have had a stress induced heart attack and died. Which would make my current anxiety attack pretty much ridiculous, because it wouldn't matter if I was dead! I sort of wish I was dead…

But it's not until I can feel my body being shaken, that I start my return to reality. Where I'm not dead, or having a heart attack, just a typical anxiety episode.

"Tweek.. Holy shit dude.." Clyde had a grasp on each of my arms, and was attempting to shake me from my thoughts. "Breathe!"

It wasn't until I sucked in a lungful of air that I even noticed I had stopped breathing in the first place. But sucking in air wasn't helping me improve anything; the room still felt off balance and due of one reason or another I was starting to feel lightheaded.

"Gah- I have to. I have to –Nng." I stopped trying to speak for a second, not sure of what exactly I had to do. Logically, nothing was probably going to help much. "I need out. Nng, outside."

Clyde was giving me a strange look, and seeing as he usually wasn't around when I had panicked fits I couldn't say I blamed him. But that's not to say I was really in any state to offer him comfort, because if I was I wouldn't be in the middle of freaking out myself. Wordlessly, I took a step away from him, before turning and heading in a direction I barely recall seeing stairs located. Luckily, probably the only luck I'll have for a while, the place is still crowded as hell so I'm pretty sure I have a good chance of leaving without being noticed.

---

Ten minutes and 3 wrong turns later, I finally found my way from the crowded club to the not-so-crowded streets; and like I more or less figured, I've yet to find anymore solace out here then I had indoors. But I figure, at least it's less cramped.

I let out a sigh, making a mental note to myself to at least remember to breathe, and start a slow walk in no particular direction.

"Hey!!"

From somewhere behind me, I can almost making out the sounds of someone running; but seeing as I'm not exactly sprinting myself, I can't say I made the slightest effort to pause. Chances are they're not attempting to catch up to me, anyways. A few seconds pass, though, and the running gets louder, so much so that I can barely make out a 'shit!' amongst the sounds of shoe meeting pavement and heavier breathing; before the image of Clyde pops into my side view. I twitch a little, finally stopping, as I turn my head to give him an odd look.

"Why'd you –Ack- follow me dude?" I asked almost inaudibly, watching him attentively; caught in a mix up between wanting to furious at him, and a little relieved that I might not be left to my own devices. Which I know from experience, isn't the best of ideas.

"Dude…" His breath was caught, but he paused all the same to emphasize on the look of concern he was giving me, "Token and Craig would totally murder me if they knew I watched you have a freak out before I let you run off into the night."

For just a second, we both stand there like idiots; before I give him a partial smile.

"That's… probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me." I think for a moment longer, before adding, "Even if you are just –Nnn- covering your own ass."

"Yeah, well, I owe you coffee anyways right?" He gives me a questionable pat on my back, probably in an attempt to kill any moments before they start.

Which I'm not at all objecting too as I'm not really up for any touching friendly moments currently. Though, as I start walking again I can't help but feel just the tiniest bit better at the suggestion of coffee; which caused me to unknowingly smirk over at Clyde as he silently wanders with me.

"You know dude, I take that back. Gah- I think that was the nicest things you've ever –Nng- said to me."


	9. IntermissionWish I Could Shut My Mouth

**A/N**: Kay, so, originally I'm not sure if I actually meant to write all of this fic in Tweek's POV, or if I just forgot to change it at some point. But now I kinda feel like it's too late to change it regardless.

With that in mind, I'ma call this an ~Intermission~ because I have no idea what else to call it, and I like the sound of it. More or less, I'm going taking this chapter to convey this from Craig's POV. Hopefully no one minds, and y'all still find amusement in it. If you don't, then well.. OTL.

Lastly, of course, thank you for all the reads, alerts, favs, and of course reviews. It makes me happy to know I'm not completely doing it wrong |D

* * *

It's been two days now since Clyde spilled the, you know, to me and I'm still at a loss about what exactly I should do with my new found knowledge. For a few reasons.

Reason one; it's Clyde who told me. And he's… well, Clyde is one of those people who if you tell him anything with enough conviction, he'll believe you. Doesn't matter what it is. It could be that the sky is red and he's simply just colorblind, and for the rest of his life he'll not only think the sky is red, but that he's colorblind too. So, his word of mouth is about thirty to seventy odds when it comes to truthfulness.

Reason two; if what Clyde said is true and Tweek does, you know have a boner for me and all, but he's yet to fess up… there's probably a reason for it. That said, Tweek's rationality odds are about as good as Clyde's truth rating, thirty to seventy tops. So while I'm sure he has a reason for his secrecy, there's a good chance that it's a convoluted beyond all reason. But there's still a chance that he might have had a moment of clarity, so I have to kind of take that into consideration.

Reason three; I really… don't know how to handle this…this… whatever it is. Not because I'm in some sort of denial about being gay, because trust me, so not in denial. And it's not because the idea of Tweek and me is unappealing, because, oh, it's really really appealing. It's because I'm not exactly what you'd call… a good person. Not by a long shot. I'm unresponsive to most things, at best mildly interested, but usually irritated in some way, shape, or form. Ironically, I somehow doubt that's a thought that actually crossed his mind.

Not to mention my wicked track record for emotionless flings and one night stands.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying Tweek is innocent or anything. I mean, some people might assume that he is, but oh how they're wrong. Essentially Tweek is a perfect definition for the phrase 'high maintenance,' and I like to tell myself that most people aren't up to par when it comes to dealing with him. On a good day, he's dramatic, paranoid, delusional, resentful, demanding, obsessive, blunt, and has a mean streak of pretentiously hard to please behavior. Not that any of that is unjustified, though.

I'm not sure when it happened, but at one point in time he was just Tweek, and now he's like, I don't know. He's obviously a dude, but he's small and thin kinda like a girl. He dresses like a dude, but the idea of him in chick's clothes is far more appealing then it should be. Which you know, really doesn't help my case one way or another. Because what can I say… I'm easily jealous and I don't like to share.

Which wouldn't be a problem, if it wasn't for reason four. We're good friends, and I honestly like my self-entitlement of being the only person who knows how to handle Tweek's crazy. So if I did make a move on him and if I did screw everything up, which I probably would because let's just say… I'm a good fuck but a really bad date; he'd run off and find someone else to need. I mean I know this is nothing more then pure ego talking, but fuck, I like being needed.

And just the thought of being replaced pisses me off. Which reminds me. It also pisses me off that Clyde told me all this with serious conviction; and now he's up Tweek's ass seven ways to Sunday. Like, right now for instance.

So we end up at this nightclub, basically because Token wouldn't shut up about how we're in Las Vegas and how we need to be doing 'Vegas Stuff.' I was under the impression that gambling fit that description, but because they all seem to either suck at it or hate it, here I am. I mean yeah the place is nice, extravagant but I'm pretty sure that's the point. I even gave it a walk through and all that stuff, but therein lies the problem. We had regrouped, minus Tweek, because wandering off and losing himself in time and space is pretty much his life story.

Just like mine is usually involves tracking him down, not that I'm complaining because again I'm an egomaniac, I'm just saying. The problem, might I add is also what's currently pissing me off, is that Clyde jumped the gun and volunteered to go find where Tweek wandered off too. Like, they're suddenly best friends or something. I mean, really, the fuck is that about?

What's even better? That was about an hour ago.

And for that hour Token and I have been chillin' at one of the bars. We could have moved, sure, but a bar is a bar, y'know? So, here we've been sitting, kicking back beers; and as anyone might guess my mood is hardly cheerful. Okay so honestly that's hardly out of character for me, but that's not my point. The point is I'm in a foul mood and I have no idea what to do about it.

"So… Clyde said they went to get coffee." Token breakes the silence, while not bothering to tear his attention away from his cell.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that Token might have picked up on my 'marvelous mood' vibe. Either that or he's been wondering what the fuck the holdup is, too. I tell myself that regardless though, because it makes me feel like less of a possessive jackass.

"Why?" I ask in a dull tone, failing to pretend like I'm curious.

With a sideways glance I notice he's giving me a nice deadpan expression. Thinking back, was probably deserved.

"Rhetorical I'm sure… but does Tweek and getting coffee ever need a reason?" He asks in his typical condescending voice, so naturally I respond with my typical gesture of flipping him off.

I don't really care what the reason is truthfully, because I'm not really pro this whole new… Tweek and Clyde are best friends bullshit. And yeah, yeah, it's not like they were enemies or anything, but that doesn't mean I like it. Especially when it involves me sharing people or things that make me feel special.

"You're just upset because Tweek went with Clyde instead of you."

"No. I'm not. They're adults they can do whatever the fuck they want." My tone was nothing short of aggravated, and despite myself I meet Token's eyes with a glare.

You see, one of the problems with friends is not only do they know you better then you know yourself, but they know your business even if you don't think they do. And they also have no problem with calling you out on your bullshit.

"Then, why are you glaring at me like that?"

"Because you're asking me stupid questions." I snap at him. That's right Tucker, lying solves problems.

Token clearly saw through my bullshit though, and just rolls his eyes and tosses up his hands in a surrendering motion. Like, he isn't buying that at all but he doesn't feel like fighting it, so he's going to go ahead and let me act like a child. Which is cool, I'm fine with that.

And then suddenly, by some divine act of god or something, meaning before I get sucked into some awkward heart to heart talk I can live without; the bartender passes by to collect our empty bottles and asks if we need anything… hallelujah, this guy must have been reading my mind.

"Yeah, we're going to need some shots."

* * *

So one of my best traits, or at least my favorite trait, is my awesome ability to persuade people into doing shit they didn't want to do. In this case, Token was my target and us drinking was my goal. At first he was all, dude Craig… shots? And I was simply like, yeah dude. Shots. And then, bam, that's all she freakin' wrote. I'm not really, exactly, sure how long ago I accomplished this, but I can say at least I don't really remember why I was mad anymore.

"No way, dude." I give Token a half lidded side glance, while twirling a beer bottle idly in hand. Mostly because it was just sitting there, so I figured I had to do something with it, y'know?

"Yeah man. Totally."

"Clyde he just… he just told you?

I nod, subconsciously. "Yup, just like that." I even go as far as to snap my fingers to make my point seem more important.

I'm pretty sure about five shots and two beers ago, I wouldn't of been having this conversation with anyone who wanted to live to see another day. But that's more or less the beauty of mindless binge drinking, y'know?

"That's…" He paused while as he took a swig of beer, then shook his head. "That's fucked up."

I'm also pretty sure that if we were somehow having this chat before booze, I would have found some irony in that statement. Considering he's the one who told Clyde in the first place, come to find out. However I am in fact not sober, so that irony went right over my head in favor of fuel thanks to the fact that he's totally agreeing with me at the moment.

"And then dude… and then!" Getting far too full of myself, I shift on my barstool to turn more in Token's direction so I can point a finger at him for a dramatic effect. "He like, goes off to be best friends with Tweek… like, what?!"

"That's… That's so messed up dude." He shakes his head, in some sort of disbelief. "That's what that is."

"I know right." I nod drunkenly in our reached agreement on the subject.

"It's like, he's trying to replace me… with himself!" I can't help but scowl while I talk at the very thought of being replaced, even when drunk! I mean, that's messed up… y'know? For a second I start to fall back into a nice slump of feel sorry for myself, but before I can actually start to wallow Token interrupts me. Apparently he's like, a man of action or some shit.

"You should tell him that." He offers me this weird look of determination, which I admit basically flew right over my head. Even sober anything requiring willpower just really isn't my thing.

"Tell who… what?"

"Clyde!! Man!" This time he points a finger at me, and for some reason it makes his statement seem that much more… logical. "I'm serious."

I probably would have thought about this with some conviction, if I was still sober. Or even partially sober. But once you put liquor into the equation... I was pretty much sold on the idea as soon as he pointed a finger at me. Plus, he said he was serious. Clearly that must mean he knows what he's talking about.

"Yeah, man." I pause for a second, trying to think back to whatever I was going to tell Clyde off about, but my thoughts sort of drifted off to things requiring far less… effort. "But, I'mma go smoke first."

I mean, you can't tell someone off without having a smoke first. I'm pretty sure there's a rule about that somewhere. Plus I needed some fresh air, and time to remember exactly what I was going to tell Clyde off about.

* * *

It didn't take us too long to stumble from the bar, to the outside world, to a street-side wall to lean against as I fumble with my lighter. But apparently it was just long enough for me to forget everything outside of my desire to smoke. That's something I've always noticed, when people are drinking they only seem to remember their vices.

That is to say, until Token elbow's me in the side. I let out a smoke filled breath, turning my head towards him in mild annoyance just to notice him silently motion with his head, causing me to tilt my head in the direction of his nod to see what the fuck warranted him elbowing me.

Instantly, though, I saw exactly what he meant and all of those little annoying reasons that had fueled my binge drinking came flooding back to me. I'm pretty sure alcohol mixed with recalled thoughts are the leading statistic when it comes to making pissed off drunk calls to other people. I totally get that now.

Needless to say, it's Clyde and Tweek… with their coffee in hand. I feel about half a degree better because they actually do have coffee, but that little sliver isn't nearly enough to make me refrain from running my mouth as they approach and finally notice Token and I leaning against the building. I am nice enough to wait for them to come to a stop, though.

"Aw, how nice of you guys to finally grace us with your presence." I couldn't control myself from using a bitterly sarcastic tone, or saying it with a shitty smile.

I guess I must have thrown them for a loop, not like that's a shocker considering who I was talking to, because they both gave me strange looks.

"We… just went to get coffee." Clyde even made a point to lift his cup some, like I hadn't noticed that or something.

"No shit, really?"

"Oh Jesus, did you want to come or something?" Tweek fidgeted, suddenly seeming nervous.

I should of known there are limitless reasons as to why he would of looked rattled, even more so due to recent events I'm sure he's aware of. But due to the fact that I'm both drunk and put out, I pretty much only come to one reason and that's because he really didn't care, and he only asked because I look about as pissed as I feel.

"I wouldn't have wanted to get in the way of you guy's little… thing." I made a little hand gesture towards them as I spoke, insinuating that I knew something was up.

Which, I so did. I totally knew how I was being replaced with Clyde, even if I didn't know the reason behind it. I mean, fuck, they even bailed to get coffee together! I was so onto them. Irritated, I take a drag from my smoke and give a short wavered glance at Token, who's been overly silent through this, before flicking it back to them. Token was giving them a bothered look too, silent or not, so I still count that as him agreeing with me.

"Nng… thing?" Tweek started, looking and sounding confused.

As far as I was concerned… good.

"Whatever." At this point I'm pretty much done with this conversation. I drop my smoke to the pavement, stomping it out with unneeded force, before pulling myself from the wall. "Why don't you two just… go crawl back up each others asses or something?"

I'm sure, deep down, part of me is taking good notes on everything I've said and will have no problem reminding later about me how much of an asshole I'm being right now. But at the moment, that part isn't saying shit, so instead of caring or even better explaining myself; I chose to just ignore them both and head back inside for more liquor and brooding. Because that clearly fixed my mood the first time I tried it.

"Come on dude." I do offer to Token though, as he's not on my shit list yet. He probably should be, considering in the grand scheme of things this could all be deemed his doing. But, he's not the one replacing me, so whatever.

He too pulls himself from the wall, following me in toe as we silently head back indoors. More or less ditching Clyde and Tweek to do whatever they want.


	10. I Believe Every Single Lie

**A/N:** Ff, sorry for taking a bit longer ): I was stuck in training all week at work and, to say the least me and learning to re-route pipelines in a database is nothing short of intense and mind-numbing. Ie, can't think… can't write |D Equally, I will probably take as long for the next update… because my birthday's next week and I digress; hard liquor and writing don't go together! I'll try, though~

So anyways~ Here you go, hope you enjoy (: As always, reads/alerts/favorites and of course reviews are ~always~ adored, because no one likes writing and assuming no one cares! So thank you thank you, you are all so wonderful~

Ps.. I made it to a chapter ten! Why do I feel like that's an accomplishment? ...Idk, I'm just saying |D

* * *

Right now there's at least a hundred and fifty thoughts racing through my head, and not a damn one is remotely helpful in this situation. Situation being of course, Craig basically telling Clyde and me to go fuck ourselves.

I don't even know where to begin worrying, it's all blurring together in a confusing mass of potential reasons why Craig might of said what he did. I mean, if I at least knew why he hated me now, at least I'd know! So I could properly freak out about it, apologize profusely over it, and then promptly do whatever I could to make it up to him for doing it in the first place.

But if I don't know what I did in the first place, how am I supposed to do anything about it?!

All of this is leaving me in a state of, I don't know… shock? Which is why I'm still standing in the exact same spot I was left on the sidewalk, gawking moronically at the building. Like it's going to give me the answer I'm looking for if I stare at it long enough. I'm sure this goes without saying, but it's not helping me in the slightest. I can't say that Clyde seems to be finding any solace either, as he's standing beside me staring down the building like he's waiting for it do something.

The awkward silence looms around us a little longer, before Clyde finally cracks.

"Dude. The fuck?" A simple statement, but I'm pretty sure I couldn't of said it better if I tried.

"Ack! I know right!?"

At least I knew Clyde wasn't handling this any better then I was. This is the type of situation where normally; I would panic, Clyde would cry, Craig would tell the building to fuck itself before promptly flipping it off, and Token would either try to rationalize the situation, or begin plotting someone's demise. To say the least, leaving Clyde and me alone in any situation is a classic case of the blind leading the blind, so I suppose it's really no shocker that we're still just standing around like idiots.

And, to top it off, I still have coffee! When I'm forced to actually deal with something by myself my first plan of action is always to get coffee first. But seeing as I already have it, and it isn't helping much at all, I'm pretty much at a loss. But for good measure, just in case, I take a swig. I hate dealing with shit. It's too much pressure. And this right now? This is way, way, too intense for me to even think about dealing with.

"What should we do, dude?" Clyde gave me a lost sort of look, that basically rivaled my own.

"Gah!" I jerk involuntarily, my eye twitching a bit. "I, Jesus! I… I think we should avoid them."

"Huh?"

"It's just—What if we piss them off more!? Oh god!! They might leave us here man!!"

"No way, they wouldn't just leave us in Vegas." For just a second Clyde had seemed positive, but his look turned less than confident which did nothing short of make me paranoid about being right. "Would they?"

"They might, Gah!! I mean, we're only here for a few… a few more days right? What if we piss them off more and –nnhg- they start to really hate us and DO leave us here! I don't want to live here man, not with the mafia and hookers and drive bys! That's –way- too much pressure dude!!" I take a deep breathe, trying to subdue the shaking I started doing mid-rant, and exhale slowly. "… So… so if we just avoid them, maybe they'll just calm down and-Aagh- stuff…"

For a second he seems to be considering what I said, silently bouncing his look from me to the building, and then aiming it back to me. "I… I think that makes sense, actually."

Rationally speaking, that probably should have been a red flag for a really bad idea, seeing as making sense and Tweek aren't usually words to be used in the same sentence. Now, irrationality and me… we go way back. But seeing as we've been disowned by the tacticians of our normal group, there's no one around to remind us of that fact.

"Where should we go?" he's giving me look like he's waiting for me to tell him what to do.

And I really don't like all of this thinking. It's starting to stress me out, and I can't help but notice there's a faint throbbing starting up in my head like I'm already getting a headache. Or a stress induced brain tumor. Totally unknowing as to what we should do, or why I have to be the one to think about it, I give a downwards glance to my coffee cup. Usually coffee offers solace, or at least something to do while avoiding things, however I can't help but notice there's only a little bit left. Luckily, that's an easy fix.

I down the rest of the coffee in a chug, before twitching and looking back at Clyde.

"I think –Nngh- we should get coffee."

* * *

"I just don't get why they were so mad at us."

At least thirty minutes have passed since our disownment, and thus far our grand master scheme of avoiding the offenders has brought us as far as Harbucks. And, that's about as far as we had gotten. Apparently we're both followers by nature and without people around to tell us what to do, we're both clueless. On the bright side, though, Clyde seemed less confused at this point, even if he's far more broody, and I have another coffee in hand so I'm pacified enough at the moment. I figure, if I had to be lost and confused I should at least have coffee. It makes any situation a little easier, for me at least, despite Clyde's whining.

"Nng- Maybe, it's because you told Craig?" I'm not sure if I was going for helpful or not, but if I was it didn't seem to be working as Clyde proceeded to sulk.

"But why would that piss Token off?"

I'm sure if I would have offered myself a chance to properly think about his question, I could of given him many reasons be them logical or not. But I hadn't offered myself that opportunity because I'm quite sure a few of them Token wouldn't have appreciated very much, and thus wouldn't of helped my paranoia over being left in Vegas. So I only thought about the question long enough for me to inhale a few more mouthfuls of coffee.

"I dunno but… Craig can be really –Erck- persuasive when he wants something." Which wasn't a total lie I was feeding him. When it comes to talking people into doing things they didn't want to do, Craig was a freakin' master!

"Well if that's the reason, that's stupid."

Clyde seemed to brew while taking a sip from the frilly iced coffee I had talked him into, before getting a rather sour look on his face… that I really didn't trust.

"We should be the one's who're mad over this!"

"…Why?" Instantly I gave him a look that was nothing short of both paranoid and curious, and probably a bad idea.

While I can't say that Clyde has a way with words, or the skills to manipulate others… it really doesn't take a great deal of either to fuck with my head. In most instances, the only thing that fuels my passion to fight over ideas is when there's fear involved. Fear of death, of being arrested, of getting on a plane and having it explode, and so on… but if I really have nothing to lose, then I'm easily sold.

"Because!" He started, already getting a pissy tone in his voice that confused me, "They were the ones who got drunk and yelled at us for no reason!" The tone of his voice and upset look on his face caused me to frown. What if he was right? I bet he was right! I should be upset, I think!

"Ack! You're totally right!" With blind confidence I agreed, obviously sold with little effort on Clyde's part. "So –Ergh- what should we do now?"

Even though he had more or less sold me on the idea of being equally angry at both Craig and Token, that fact didn't really help us much in the planning department. Even less so because the idea of confrontation with them was where my line of acceptance ended. There was –no- way I would consider rivaling against them, no way man! They'd end up making us look stupid, then Craig would beat me up, and while I was unconscious Token would sell me into slavery. My acceptance of being angry with them was as far as I was going to take this.

While I hid my paranoia behind drinking coffee, Clyde's own domineer wavered as he obviously hadn't thought that far ahead yet. But he seemed to be quick enough with the ideas, because it didn't take him but a blink of an eye to shrug.

"Pft, let's just go drink."

He seemed nonchalant about the suggestion, and usually I wouldn't have thought twice about it. However, considering that Craig and Token had obviously gotten plastered before slinging nonsense at us, I find the idea of us also drinking… almost ironic. That said, it wasn't like I had any better ideas.

"Arhg—Okay."

* * *

One of the things I admire about larger cities, despite their high crime and murder levels, is their abundance of stuff. For instance, in South Park you pretty much have one bar option. If you want more, you have to go to Denver. Here in Las Vegas, on the other hand, we passed five bars just on our way to the coffee shop earlier. Not that we went to any of those, as they were all way too close to the currently tainted hotel, but all the same having options was nice.

But again, despite the possibilities available to us, we ended up taking a four block detour to a side street that was close enough to the Vegas Stripe for us to not get totally lost, but equally out of the way. So if someone was to say, look for us they'd have to put some effort into finding us. Not that I was expecting anyone too or anything, but I just figure if one is wishing to avoid something, they shouldn't do a half ass job of it, is all.

Though despite the fact that butthurt had gotten us to a bar in the first place, we had otherwise moved on. Funny how short attention spans work. That, and a few shots of hard liquor topped off with a few beers.

"So… so what would you do if we really were left here?" Clyde gave me a deviously curious look, that would have usually scared me, but instead made me think as he watched me and took a sip from his beer.

"First I'd probably rejoice because I wouldn't have to get on another –Ack- plane!" I smiled at the very thought, and mentally coined that one as a silver lining in the event of. "Then –Gah- I dunno. Maybe stick around for a few weeks… just to be spiteful."

"Oh man, that'd be hilarious!" Clyde let out a laugh, obviously amused by my comment, "Everyone would be so worried!"

I had to think about that for a second, musing; would they worry? Honestly, I figured most would be happy I was gone due to my constant annoying tics. Kind of makes me wonder if leaving me here wasn't somehow in the original plan.

"We should, dude!! We should do that tonight!" His enthusiasm, not to mention comment, lost me. Which I'm pretty sure he noticed due to look on my face and my silence.

"I mean, we could turn off our phones and shit… and stay somewhere else for the night! Let them worry and stuff, y'know?"

I lingered in silence still, thinking about it. Again, I'm pretty easily sold on ideas, and I hate to admit it but the thought is an appealing one. Not really due to me wanting to make them worry about us, because really I doubted they'd care at all. But the idea of not going back to the shared hotel suite of awkwardness fit really well into our avoiding scheme.

"That's… Ergh! That's a good idea!" Consider me sold.

My beer was abandoned on the table top as I went to fish my cell from my back pocket. For some reason it was blinking, not that I'd know why considering I usually left it on silent and only used it when I was consumed by paranoia, so I ignored it and instead mashed down the button that would turn it off. The while, Clyde went through the same motions, even if he had turned his off with a little more reluctance. Like I assume most would, considering the usual dependency people usually have with them.

My phone was slipped back in my pocket, to be neglected like it usually was, in favor of my beer. I paused with it in hand, though, for a second as I shifted an uneasy look over at Clyde feeling more then a little twinge of paranoia. Apparently I hadn't have enough alcohol in me yet to banish me from my usual mind frame.

"Do you –Ack!- think they'll actually worry?"

"Totally." He shrugged, seeming not all that concerned about it before adding, "Or they'll try to kill us."

"WHAT?!?" I couldn't help but shriek with a wave of anxiety, causing Clyde to laugh over my obvious distress.

"Sorry dude! I couldn't help it!"

As he laughed at me I really considered chunking the bottle in hand at his head, but I managed to restrain myself in favor of not having all three friends hating me in a single evening. Instead I just glared, placing the bottle back on the table… just in case I got the urge to throw it at him again.

"Jerk."

"I was only kidding!" He smiled, obviously amused with himself.

"You're still a –Nngh- jerk!" I scoffed at him, obviously missing his humor.

"Yeah yeah, let's go find a place before they try to hunt us down!" He rose with that in mind, pushing the chair back and waiting for me to do the same.

The paranoia within me spiked at the very notion of Craig and Token not only being drunk and pissed at us, but finding us as well was more then enough of a thought to make me shoot to my feet.

It didn't take us but a few minutes to leave the bar with no real destination in mind. Luckily whatever street we had already been on offered just as many hotel options as it had places to get drunk. And while none of them had been near as ritzy as the Grand neither of us were as loaded as Token, so it kinda worked in our favor in its own way.

Though options aside, considering all hotels were pretty much equally disgusting and disease ridden, we settled on a Super 8... namely because it was the closest and again, they were all pretty untrustable as far as hygiene standards went. Plus, it had vacancies! What more could we possibly ask for?

The little bell over head sounded off as I swing open the –not- automated door, because again this isn't the Grand or anything even remotely similar, and headed towards the front desk with Clyde in toe. Behind the counter was some bored out of her mind middle-aged women reading a book. Because clearly she's used to this place being a mad house, only not really.

"We, uh… need a room for the night?" He questioned her, only because she's yet to acknowledge our existence.

She doesn't bother to set her book down, just barely giving Clyde a glance, then me, before shrugging and hitting a few buttons on the register in front of her.

"$62.75" Her voice sounded about as lively as a corpses would, and she moved about as fast as one too as she used her bookless hand to grab a key from beneath the counter.

Normally I'd be concerned about this place having something to do with zombie creation, but before I can even get that far ahead of myself, Clyde interrupts my thoughts.

"Can you pay… I'm like, broke."

"Why… What? Jesus!! This was your idea man!" I glower over at him for a second, despite the fact that I'm already getting my wallet.

"Yeah but, you have a job and shit dude…" He attempts to give me some pathetic look, which I'm not buying into and rival with an unamused glare.

"Gah! You suck man!"

I fumble with a few bills that were stuffed in my wallet, shooting Mister 'oh I'm a broke college student' another look before tossing the money on the counter and snatching the key from the lady, who seems a few shades more interested in us suddenly. My response to this is naturally to glare at her too, before sticking my tongue out at Clyde. Because I am totally that mature.

"You lovebirds need a receipt?" She asks, in a clearly condescending tone which sort of makes me want to punch her in the face.

But instead I just twitch and take the money from her and shove it in one of my pockets, giving her an irritated look.

"Ack- No! I'm sure we'll have enough to remember this –Nngh- night from already. Thanks."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you!" Clyde adds without missing a chance to be an asshole, making a point to sling an arm around my shoulders while he's at it.

Sometimes I really love my friends, only not really.

Without another word we take our leave, heading back to the streets to make our way around the hotel's side to locate whatever disease ridden room we got stuck with.

"You know.. if they do kill us dude?" I glance over at Clyde, who gives me a momentarily lost look as if he forgot he ever planted that seed of fear in my head, "I'm going to –Gah!- ask that they kill you first. Just so I can… I can one last moment of happiness before I'm murdered." I say this with a partial glare, causing him to not take me seriously at all.

"I love you too Tweek."


	11. Come Hell or High Water

**A/N**: Ha! I told myself I'd take longer, and I ended up getting this done quicker then I normally do. That rarely happens, because I'm a ~procrastinator~ Also, I love anyone who said they love Clyde and Tweek. And or called me out on Cleek, which I highly approve of. Eventually, I'll be working on one. I started one? But… somehow it went off on a tangent involving others… and zombies… not that I ever disapprove of zombies, but I'm just saying.

Anyways~ So, here you go! I hope you enjoy, ect ect. And thank you all for the reads/favs/ect/ and reviews. They mean a lot to me and I love you all for them. Even more so because lol, 51 reviews~ I'm totally going to pretend like that's an accomplishment, and again thank you all, true story.

* * *

_Drip._

Despite how hard I was trying to tell myself I that I was still asleep, the repetitive pinging of something to my face was making it basically impossible for me to fall back asleep.

_Drip._

Half awake and in a groggy state of mind, my eyes still clamped shut in a failing denial over not waking up, I can honestly say I haven't the slightest idea what's agitating me… only that I want it to die, mercilessly. Without so much as an attempt to open an eye, I swat a hand in front of my face; hoping maybe to knock away whatever it was that was determined to wake me up.

_Drip._

"GAH!" I couldn't help but shriek, finally prying one eye open before attempting a hateful glare towards whatever it is that has a death wish, only to find myself staring into the mouth of a bathtub fixture. Naturally, I notice this just in time to watch another bead of water fall and nail me in the forehead.

_Drip._

Logically speaking, I should be far more concerned with why I spent the night attempting to sleep in a bathtub opposed to the annoying water dripping from the faucet. But seeing as I now remember why I'm laying in a bathtub, quite well I might add, I'm far more annoyed by the water than anything else. Though I'll admit, the bathtub probably wasn't the best choice however it seemed like a good idea at the time.

The time being, of course, last night once we got inside the hotel room.

Clyde had promptly laid claim to the bed, and I didn't make the slightest attempt to fight him for it. In fact, I was happy to inform him that he could knock himself out and that I had no intention of getting a disease from that cumdumpster the hotel passed off as a mattress. That was probably a mistake on my part, because he had given me a downright horrified look as I began arranging the two chairs we were blessed with in a manner so I could slouch on one, and prop my legs up with the other. And while I'm sure the chairs were filthy too, I figured they would be safer then the bed. And that was about the time Clyde not only decided that I was fucked up in the head, but that there was no way in hell he was sleeping on that bed after my comment.

Naturally that decision hadn't ended well, for me at least. Don't get me wrong, I did attempt to fight him for my chairs but I'm not exactly… a beefcake, and while Clyde isn't exactly either… he was still strong enough to catch me off guard and toss me over his shoulder… then threaten to dump me headfirst on the mattress unless I surrendered the chairs.

… Needless to say, I willingly let him have the fucking chairs while I sulked off to another place I assumed might pass as clean; the bathtub. Not saying it was comfortable or anything, because I'm pretty sure sleeping outside on the concrete might have been a cozier place to rest; however anything was better then sleeping on the mattress that I'm pretty sure could have knocked me up or given me aids. Okay, I know both accounts would be pretty much impossible all things considering… but still. I've watched television specials about the shit that goes on in hotels like this. Ritzy hotel beds, maybe. Hotels that have hourly rates, no way in hell.

But despite the fact that I reeeally wasn't looking forward to the impending doom that was probably waiting for me back at the Grand, I'm pretty sure I'd rather deal with that… then stay in this dingy hotel much longer.

That revelation in mind I bolted to my feet, abandoning the bathtub and it's leaky fixture as well as the make shift towel bedding I used last night, in favor of getting the fuck as quickly as possible; which left me stumbling blindly into the bedroom with one hand on the wall in hopes of locating a light swit… ah-ha!

Within a second the shitty room was illuminated, and while I was momentarily blinded by it at least I wasn't caught totally off guard… which is less then I could say for Clyde. As soon as the lights flipped on he let out a hilarious yelp of surprise, which totally had me amused, before attempting to jolt upright but instead he met the floor hard seeing as he had been sleeping across two chairs instead of something solid.

"Gah! Ah, morning Clyde!" I can't say I made the slightest attempt to hide my grin or the mocking tone in my voice.

"Fuck you man… not cool." He sat up and shot me a hard glare, while attempting to formally wake up.

As he sulked and attempted to get off the floor, I couldn't help but be an ass and smile as I watched him. Usually I'd be the first to fret over this sort of situation, because he could have easily knocked his head against something causing head trauma, or thrown his back out and could never play his sport thing again, or even broke something and he'd hate me forever… But seeing as he's the one who threatened me then stole my chairs last night, it would serve him right for being a jerk.

"I need coffee –Ack!- … And a shower." I stated out of the blue, more so talking to myself so I wouldn't forget my own thoughts, then I was to Clyde.

I'm sure there's some irony in that, considering I slept in the bathtub last night and all. However, for one I slept with my clothes on because I honestly wouldn't trust this place enough to remove them. That thought alone had me thinking about why we stayed here in the first place, which caused a sudden pang of anxiety in my chest.

"Do you think they still… Jesus- hate us?" Hesitantly I give a wincing glance over to Clyde, not sure why I'm asking him that other then morbid curiosity.

"Oh totally." He answered my question way too fast for my own comfort, and that guilty look in his eyes caused me to twitch. "I turned my phone on last night because I was bored, right? As of like three am, Token said he was caught between worrying about us and hoping we were dead."

"O-oh." My body had a spasm mid-word, one hand instantly snapping to grab a chunk of hair like that was going to help anything. "That's –Argh!- Cool... Coffee?"

Was it cool? No. Not at all, not in the slightest. Was I expecting that? Well, I wasn't exactly expecting death wishes par say, but at least I know the chances of them forgiving and forgetting are basically non-existent at this point.

Clyde just gave me a shrug in response to my beckoning of coffee, he probably didn't care one way or another but was at least smart enough not to stand between coffeeless-anxiety-Tweek and his coffee; which is a good thing. I need coffee right now, so I make no hesitation to bolt for the door. And no, it doesn't matter that I can't remember where the Harbucks was I would freakin' find it, because thinking about all this? Was starting to give me a headache.

It seemed to me that they clearly didn't want us near them last night, but not being near them was equally a bad idea? I couldn't help but frown, this concerns me. There really wasn't a right action to take, which is stressful enough. Even more so because I haven't had my coffee fix yet. I mean if they don't know what they want me to do, how the hell am I supposed to know? This is way too much pressure for me to handle.

Then to make it even better?

Not five steps out the door, and I can hear music coming from Clyde's pants. Music that I know is a ring tone, which I know means someone is calling him. And considering my luck over the past few days I could take a guess over who it is, even before he took the phone out and I noticed him wincing.

"Oh… Hey Toke! Sup?" I could tell Clyde was trying to sound calm and collective, even if his wincing expression totally got worst. Totally makes me feel better about all this… only not really.

"Worried? Oh, you don't say."

As we headed down the street there were little gaps of silence, which were presumably being filled with the sound of Token's voice informing Clyde about how pissed off he was. Regardless of what Token was saying though, I'm pretty sure they were falling to deaf ears due to the distant look on Clyde's face that suggested that he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention.

"Uh-huh. Well, I mean, obviously we're fine soo." For another brief moment he fell silent, just rolling his eyes at whatever was being said, like Token could totally see the gesture or something.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey listen dude, if you wanna yell at me some more we can head back there as soon as we get Tweek his caffeine fix."

I shot Clyde a pissy look at the comment, like I was somehow forcing him to accompany me or something. He started to give me a grinning look, before his expression suddenly flattened.

"Meet us there… uh… okay, sure?" After a brief second he lowered his cell to hang up, before we shared a brief pained look of uncertainty.

* * *

As soon as we reached Harbucks and swung the door open I noticed Token was already there, sitting in one of their armchairs, waiting for us. Despite all, I have to admit that I'm glad he came alone even if he was still looking irritated. Just because, Token was more or less a rational person even when mad; which is far more then I can say for Craig, even on the best of days.

The look on my face was nothing short of guilty as I slinked off towards the counter to order my much needed caffeine fix. There was no way I could handle this kind of pressure without it's assistance, and something told me I'd need to consume as much as I possibly could before I left. Oddly enough, Clyde must have been thinking something similar, because he wasn't no time shuffling behind me in line opposed to going to sit with token.

Either that or he just didn't want to be left alone with Token yet. Not that I can blame him of course.

Ten minutes later with our coffee in hand, we finally took seats across from token who somehow appeared to be both upset and calm at the same time. I didn't bother to think about why that was, and instead gulped down part my latte like it was going to offer me some form of assistance. I suppose it did… as it gave me a temporary distraction; if distractions counted towards helping anyways.

"So, anyone feel like bringing me up to speed on what exactly is going on?" Token broke the silence barrier coolly, bouncing a look between Clyde and me.

"Well dude you guys were like… pissed! So we just thought, man we should avoid them." Clyde nodded in agreement with himself, while I did a combination of useless fidgeting and twitching.

"And –Ack!- I mean, what if we pissed you guys off more? Jesus, you guys might have killed us!"

Token smirked at me, before rolling his eyes and looking away from us both. "We weren't that mad dude."

"You might not have been, but –Nngh- Craig totally was." I spat out at Token quickly, before attempting to hide behind my coffee again while I watched his reaction. He hesitated before saying anything, which both further proved my point and made me about fifty times more paranoid then I already was.

"Well, maybe. But," Token made a point to give me a patronizing look, suggesting this was aimed specifically towards me, "Did you really think running off would help?"

"Well, he did more or less tell us to go fuck off, you know." Clyde made a good point, so I offered a nod in agreement.

Exasperated, Token let out a sigh before slouching back in his chair, giving us both a 'I can't believe how stupid you guys are' look that's more than deserved, at least as far as I'm concerned because I'm pretty sure I have no idea what's going on right now… even if I probably should. "Dudes, really?"

That answered nothing, and I snort, making no attempt to hide my lack of understanding about whatever the hell is going on. They're mad, they're not that mad, okay well maybe Craig was, but avoiding him wouldn't help, but I have no idea why he's mad… and somehow I'm the one who missed something? I decide, at the moment, that I should confide in my coffee, taking a few gulps of my dear friend and thinking about how it never gives me these fucked up paradoxes to figure out. I hate riddles man, they're way too much pressure. I guess Token got the hint, because he finally continues.

"He's just being bitchy because he thinks he's being replaced with Clyde." He made a point to make quotations in the air with his fingers at the word replaced, like he really didn't get it either but instead of fighting Craig about it, he just went along with it.

"So then, why were you mad?" Clyde gives Token a blank stare, obviously expecting an answer that I'm pretty sure he wasn't going to get. Truthfully, at least.

"Duh dude," Not missing a beat, Token smiled snidely, "If you two became best friends... I'd have to hang out with Craig all the time, and I can only handle so much of that asshole."

I honestly can't help but wonder if he just pulled that answer out of his ass, or if he'd been thinking about how to respond if asked such a question. I was partially tempted to call him out on it, but reconsidered due to the fact that; if he had been planning ahead he probably would have planned out a cover up to my murder that would take place shortly after asking him such a question. Or at least planned whom he would call to knock me off.

"So, what now?" Clyde questions him, and we both turn our attention to Token; I'll admit that's a question I'd like to know the answer to as well.

"Just tell Craig you have no interest in, or being up Tweek's ass and I'm sure he'll get over it quickly."

"Gah! What?" I couldn't help but yelp out at Token's statement.

I suddenly wasn't all that interested in going back to the hotel anymore.

* * *

After that snide comment involving my ass, it took nothing short of Token buying me a coffee and Clyde child-locking me into the backseat of Token's rental car, for me to agree to willingly return to the Grand Hotel. Once I was released from the car, and we made our way into the hotel, I immediately went back to my childish antics of trying to hide behind my coffee as my anxiety reared it's ugly head.

And despite what Token had said about Craig getting over 'it' I had my doubts. A lot of them, actually. I frowned as I recalled the years that I've known Craig, and have never seen him just get over anything. In fact, I'm pretty sure he still holds a grudge against Stan and them for that whole Peru thing that went down when we were kids. And if that's the case, then I'm pretty sure he'll try to kill me in my sleep tonight. A not so comforting thought, that's so not helping me out in the slightest. In fact by the time the elevator dropped us off on our floor, my coffee is gone and I'm more or less trembling like an idiot.

I mean, what if Craig doesn't even wait until I'm asleep to kill me? What if he's on the otherwise of that door right now with a gun, or the mafia, or something even worst then that? Sweet Jesus!

My natural instincts, or maybe just my constant paranoia, go off in my head like an alarm. Telling me to make a run for it while I still can, but before I get a chance to even agree with myself about bolting Token gets the door unlocked and swings it open, causing me to drop my empty cup due to nerves and yelp out a 'ACK!'

Both Clyde and Token give me a puzzled look, before assuming I'm just having another Tweek moment and head on into the room. This is it, seriously. I'm going to die, I know it.

They both make it in the room before I even bother to move, and as they do I wince in anticipation for the sounds of gunshots or screams of horror… though neither take place. Which is either good news, or that just means Craig only plans to kill me. I gulp, and finally creep inside, and much to my surprise Craig isn't doing much of anything. Well unless you know him far too well, like I do.

I can tell already that he's not ready to 'let' anything go, just from the blatant way he's pretending to watch TV so he can ignore the fact that we're in the same room as he is. And for just a few seconds his eyes flicker from Token, to Clyde, to me, and then right back to the TV. I wince at this, because within that short period of time I could tell that he was marginally glad that Clyde and me were back, but he had absolutely no intentions of talking to any of us… Token now included.

Not much time passed, not nearly enough time for any of us to gather courage to break the ice, before Craig made the first move, lifting himself from the sofa and silently walking off to his room; leaving the three of us to just stand there, looking rather unsure. A minute or two later he reappeared, the same moody look on his face as he walked past us, basically like we weren't there at all, and headed for the door. He made a point to swing it open wide, before promptly slamming it behind him as he left, without so much as a word to anyone.

I gave the door a glance over my shoulder, not really expecting anything more of a reflex. I've known Craig long enough to know that he's not only good at holding grudges, but that he's stubborn and immature. If and when he feels like acknowledging us and potentially conversing about something, it'll be on his terms and when he feels like it.

And even if I do know all this; part of me is still already starting to worry, and the other part is sort of wishes he would have just shot me.


	12. Til Tonight Do Us Part

**A/N**: Fff, soo I'm sorry it took me a while to update this time… busy life got a little busy for me XD Hopefully you enjoy all the same, and I hope this chapter clears up some stuff that's otherwise been vague… I have a bad habit of being amused by beating around the bush |D

And as always thank you gais so much for the reads/favs/and reviews~ They fill me with happiness and I can't express how much I appreciate them. So, thank you thank you and then some!

* * *

So you know how like, something bad will happen and someone will tell you 'oh well at least it can't get any worst' but by saying that they totally jinx it… and it gets worst? Yeah, that's me right now; only no one actually had to say it, and it's only going downhill because my friends are idiots. Let's recap, shall we.

Craig is mad. Craig leaves. Craig isn't responding to calls or texts from anyone, including Token. I up for the idea of leaving him alone and letting him comeback on his own freewill; this idea is promptly rejected. Token concocts a scheme aiming to make Craig jealous that will magically fix ~everything~. Either that, or piss him off more. I inform them about how I don't feel like dying in Las Vegas, and that I want no part of this; again my opinion is rejected and I'm told I'm being melodramatic.

Now usually in the argument of Tweek verses Rationality, I'm in the wrong. Usually I'm teeming with delusional worst case scenarios and ultimately the world doesn't come to an end like I prophesize. However, in his particular case I feel that I have at least a fifty/fifty chance of being right for once.

Which is precisely why I'm glaring daggers at Token; who's just sitting there smugly, waiting for Clyde to finish with whatever he's doing in the bathroom, so we can move forward with the plan to doom both of us… That is, until I decide that Token might as well suffer too; It's only fair.

"So –Ack! - Why are you so hyped to make us do this?" I give him an eager glance.

"Well it is kind of my fault." He replies, without missing a beat just like I suspected.

"Or," I narrow my eyes a little while smirking, "Is it because you want Craig to beat the crap out of Clyde, so he'll –Aargh!- come running back to you for comfort?"

"Don't joke about that dude." He shot me a look that told me I was striking a nerve, but I had every intention of playing stupid and pressing his buttons.

"Ack!- Which part? About Clyde getting his ass handed to him?" I pause, letting my expression darken, "Or… the part where you –Ack! – gush all over Clyde while consoling him?"

At first he sat speechless, taking a second before matching my smirk. "Guess you caught me, what gave it away?"

"You're never –Hhgn! - nice unless you have… having something to gain." I pause for a second, flickering my eyes towards the bathroom door before turning them back to Token, "I still don't know why you just don't –Nng- tell him."

Which is far from a lie really; I've never known Token to be modest over anything, not to mention it's not like he's paranoid or even has a reason to be if he was… unless of course he is.

"Ah… I guess I don't know. Pride? Maybe." For just a second, he did look almost paranoid; even more so when Clyde finally swung the bathroom door open and graced us with his presence.

"Yow guys ready?" Clyde chimed, far too happy to walk into this trap. Suspicious, if you ask me.

"Ack! No… not really." I couldn't help but wince; really, really not ready.

"Works for me! Token?"

"Good enough for me, let's go."

I let out a groan as Token takes to his feet, making off for the door while I made a last ditch effort at being left behind. It didn't work though. Clyde promptly dragged me to me feet and followed after Token who was leading the way; out the door, down the hall, presumably towards the elevator, and from there I hadn't a clue.

"So –Ack! - What's the, uh, plan… guys?" I question to the back of their heads seeing as neither of them was actually looking towards me, and for a moment I get no reply; making me wonder if they heard me or if they were just choosing to ignore me.

Delayed, Token finally acknowledges me as he reaches the elevator doors and presses the down arrow, turning around as he did so to face me. "Drinking, what else?"

Thus far that's the only part of this plan that makes any sense to me at all.

* * *

So it ends up taking roughly three hours for the three of us to go from zero to tanked; That and like five shots of jager… and three car bombs. Actually, make that four.

"Ready? … Go!"

As soon as Token sounds off, the shots are dropped in the Guinness, and then we chug. Clyde finishes first, promptly clanking his glass to the bar top while grinning triumphantly and tossing his hands over his head like to drunk idiot he is, followed shortly by myself, and then Token.

"Show off much?" I slur at him, grinning partially; I stick my glass on the table with tact, and run a hand across my mouth to wipe away any lingering alcohol.

My glass ends up hitting the bar top for a minute tops, before Clyde stumbles to his feet and takes a hold of my wrist then drags me to my feet. I shoot him a funny look, smirking at him while muttering something incoherent about why the fuck he did that.

"Come on dude, let's check out the floor." Without really waiting for me to acknowledge what he said, let alone respond to it; he wastes no time in pulling me off towards the overcrowded dance floor.

See now this presents two problems; I don't feel like dancing, and I'm drunk. A combination of those two things equals a very shitty time for Tweek… that is if Clyde actually had the intentions of making me dance, which I'm hoping he didn't. You see, after those five Jager shots and the four car bombs that followed I totally forgot… pretty much everything that took place before that first shot; which would include that whole plan that called for Clyde to hang on me, and for me to be okay with it, and then Token to somehow lure Craig from his hiding spot so he can see it and be jealous, and then kill the both of us.

At the moment, I've forgotten about it completely.

So I can only assume that Clyde's smiling at me because he's piss faced drunk, and that he only let go of my wrist so he could sling an arm around my shoulders because one of us needs the support so they don't fall face first to the floor. Or get lost in the crowd, actually both of those seem pretty logical; so I lean against him as we stagger around people, because really, this whole walking around while drunk this is hard enough, let alone walking while weaving through a crowd of moving obstacles.

Not that I know why we abandoned the bar in the first place. It even has stools! Those are way more convenient then this whole moving bullshit is; however before I can offer such knowledge to Clyde he stops dead in his tracks, causing me to jerk forward and nearly making me topple to the floor.

"Dude, the fuck man.." I mutter at him, shooting him an annoyed look.

I mean, really? First he made me leave the bar where both the alcohol and chairs are located, then he makes me walk around like an idiot, and now? Now he's trying to make me fall. None of this is making much sense to me at the moment; naturally he doesn't reply or acknowledge me either, and instead just keeps looking forward like he's seen a ghost, which naturally gets my attention. Gets my attention, and then instantly reminds me of why I was drinking in the first place.

Oh right, because Craig hates my guts.

So Craig's standing a few feet from us and he's got this intense look in his eyes that's a tossup between infuriated and predatory. After a few moments pass of us just standing there in a face off, Craig finally makes a move; casually walking over to us and taking a hold of my wrist, jerking me away from Clyde and then promptly storming off again without saying a single word about it.

At first I make an attempt to keep up his pace, but it doesn't take me long to decide that he's attempting to walk way too fast for someone who's as drunk as I am; so once we get to a spot less cluttered with bodies I abruptly stop, doing my best to become dead weight before jerking my arm away from him. Seriously, I'm too drunk and the room is too spinny right now for a game of lead around Tweek.

The second I re-claim my arm from his grasp, Craig doesn't hesitate to wheel around and face me this look that just... Nng! He looks like, downright… pained, and it makes my chest wretch despite myself.

"Craig... Jesus dude, what's wrong?" I take a few steps towards him; concerned, frowning, and completely oblivious.

My brain's still hazy thanks to the booze so even though I'm sure I should know the reason, but I haven't the slight clue why he's staring at me like that. That is, until he closes the distance between us so he's towering over me; quickly placing a hand under my chin to tilt my head upwards, before pressing his lips against mine.

He used just enough force to cause my mind to blank and blood to race; to ultimately fuck with my head over why he's doing this, before he stops it as quickly as he started. He pulls away with his eyes half closed and mouth partially open… and I honestly don't know what to think, or say, or do, and I doubt I would have even if sober. So I up for doing nothing, to just stand there watching him with a dumb look on my face.

Apparently, I made the wrong choice.

"Shit, Tweek I'm sorry. I just..." Though he sounded hurt, my brain didn't register the tone or anything he said after just.

I'm sorry, I just… wow. For the first time since coming to this god forsaken city, I was pissed; like really pissed. I'm not sure why he's been acting like such a prick for the past day if all he really had to spit out was 'sorry I just.' I didn't have a response for that, so I decided to opt out of both giving him an answer and for standing here.

Better yet? Forget this entire club.

Without a word I backed away from him and walked off; attempting to make record time in my getaway despite being wasted and trying to weave around the hoards of people clogging up any existing walking space. But attempting apparently wasn't enough. By the time I breach the corridor outside the nightclub I could feel a tight grip on my upper arm forcing me to stop; so I grit my teeth while squeezing my eyes shut in a feeble attempt to grab a hold of myself. Usually I'm a pretty passive person due to being paranoid, but everyone has a breaking point y'know; even me.

"Tweek… dude, the fuck?"

I could feel a great deal of me spasm with tension, including my arm as I tore it away from Craig; promptly wheeling around to stare at him hard as he just stands there, looking a bit lost and clearly off-guard.

"The fuck is right; Gah! What the fuck is your problem?" I spit at him, still glaring.

It only took him a second to fire back at me. "MY PROBLEM? My problem is you, Tweek! I'm curious, who the fuck do you really like, huh?" His look turned fierce, and my look faded as I was a little too wasted to fully register anything he said.

"… What?"

"What? You heard me! Clyde told me about how you feel, then all of a sudden you two are inseparable. What the fuck dude."

"Hhgn- You… you think I like Clyde?" To that I couldn't offer anything then meek words and confusion.

I waited in silence for a reply that he didn't offer me; I guess he felt like he didn't really have to. So at first we both just stood there, him glaring at me painfully and me staring at him like an idiot… until the realization of his words caught up to me and hit me like a ton of bricks, flooring my thoughts into overdrive.

Now that I actually stop to think about it, everything starts to make… sense.

Him getting upset about Clyde and me ditching the club to get coffee, how he over-reacted about it, how Token said it was just because he thought he was being replaced, his refusal to speak to anyone after we had stayed somewhere else, the fact that he kissed me moments ago. Even the way he's acting now makes perfect sense.

Even better he's totally right; I'm so totally fucking everything up! That alone is enough to cause me to freak out, and sure enough anxiety floors me without a second thought; instantly I'm trembling, my hands shooting to my hair, grabbing chunks in a useless attempt to calm myself down.

"Jesus- I'm not Token." I mumble out my first incoherent thoughts, my eyes looking everywhere but at Craig; I suddenly feel like I can't breathe, maybe I'm having a heart attack. Oh god I'm having a heart attack!

"I don't –Hhgn!- like Clyde, I just… freaking out and.. I." I need out. "And.. I –Gah! Pressure - I kept thinking that you'll hate me, so I need coffee to help me calm down, and then Clyde felt bad so he came with me and then you basically told me you did hate me and –Jesus!- I thought maybe if I avoided you, you'd be like less mad! But you only got more mad and –Gah! Dude I can't do anything right!"

I gasp for air, filling my lungs completely before exhaling slowly, repeating this as I try to keep myself from hyperventilating; I can't say it's really working though. I need out, somewhere to hide; This is way too much pressure for me to handle. I repeat the same motions, air in air out; my eyes darting around quickly in hopes of an exit before I finally recognized the elevator doors from the corner of my eye.

Quickly, I shoot my eyes over to Craig, who seemed to be thinking to himself at the moment; while I have the chance I start backing away slowly, slinking away towards the elevators in hopes of retreating without him noticing. As soon as I reach them I don't waste a second before I start mashing down on the 'up' button; holding it down for all of a second before hitting it over and over again, like that would magically make the elevator to hurry up.

By the time the doors swing open to let me in; he was onto me. Before I can even get the doors to shut behind me, I was trapped inside the elevator with Craig as it headed upwards.

Instantly I started backing away from him as far as I could; squaring myself against the elevator wall, staring wide-eyed and all the while twitching like an idiot as he just stood a few feet off… his eyes fixated on me.

"Dude why do you keep fucking running away from me?" His voice sounded both pained and infuriated, causing me to flinch.

"Because.. you're going to kill me." I couldn't help but spew out, flinching and looked away from him best I could.

"What? … No I'm not."

"Jesus! Yes you are man! Every time I do something it pisses you off, and it's totally my fault! Well outside of tonight, that's Token's fault. He wanted to make you jealous and I told him that's a terrible idea that you're already pissed but no one ever listens to me, this is all because he wants Clyde to run back to him and now you're mad and yelling, and I'm going to run out of oxygen and suffocate which is worst then being murdered I think? I don't know man, this is too much pressure!" I gasp for air finally at the end of my rambling; I manage to get a few rounds in and out while I attempt to both not panic, and to not look at Craig.

Neither of which I'm successful at. Panic set in about fifteen minutes ago and multi-tasking isn't one of my quirks on a good day let alone now; so I managed to not look at him for all of about three seconds due to the elevator coming to stop at our floor. I wanted to make a run for it, however… Craig was in my way. So instead of bolting I look up at him just like I told myself not to; much to my surprise he was just standing there smirking at me, which left me pretty dumbstruck.

He doesn't miss a beat; while shaking his head at me he moved forward just enough to take hold of my arm, causing me to squeak at random, before ushering me out of the elevator before the doors closed on us.

Once we're a few steps into the hallway, I'm thrown off guard yet again as he used his hold on my arm to guide me against a wall; without hesitation pulling himself against me, pinning me down and causing my pulse to race.

"…Craig?" His name came out in a slur and far more lustful then I had intended to sound, thanks to the haze clogging my thoughts.

At first he said nothing; just running his hand from it's place on my arm over to my chest, quickly trailing it along my side until it came to a firm rest on my hip. My breath hitched with a light gasp before coming out unevenly; his other hand tracing my jaw line before creeping to the back of my neck. His fingers linger there for a brief second before they pull me closer as he rests his cheek against mine; his breath grazing past my ear as he exhaled, giving me chills.

"You know it worked… right?" His voice was warm against me and despite all I couldn't help but shiver.

"Wh… what did?" My hands found his chest, gripping onto his shirt in an attempt to grab hold of myself as I muttered.

His lips brushed against the side of my face as he let out a quiet laugh, then moved to rest his forehead against mine; watching me half-lidded as he spoke.

"Making me jealous." His voice came out faint, almost clouded; and only a second passed before Craig's lips crashed against mine feverishly.

Any thoughts I had were dissolved; everything was dissolved into nothing, and in a pathetic attempt to urge him on my arms curl around his neck before involuntarily running my hands through his hair. He pressed harder against me in response, our lips moving with a force that had me mindlessly arching my back, grinding into him; wanting… demanding more.

One of his hands fell to my waist as the other slide under my shirt, his fingers moving slowly across my stomach; instantly my lips parted and I let out a whine. As I did so he took the opportunity to deepen our kiss. His tongue slipped into my mouth eagerly, our tongues wrapping together. I stretched against him, my arms wrapping tighter as I tilt my head for a better angle, causing him to let out an eager moan before he pulled away from me.

For a second, there was nothing but a looming haze. My pulse was banging in my ears as we locked eyes; darkened, cloudy, and both set on one track. That is, until the distant sound of doors opening broke the heated silence from just a moment ago, and just seconds later drunken laughter that reluctantly beckoned our attention.

I tilted my head despite already knowing who it was; and shot an unamused look towards Clyde and Token, who were still blissfully wasted.

"You guys should get a room." Token manages to slur out, before laughing at his own joke along with Clyde.

.. And it might just be because I'm drunk, but after a few seconds past I snort and crack a grin in spite of it, slightly amused.


	13. I'm Trying to Let You Know

**A/N**: Ah, so I'm really sorry about how long this has taken me ): I suck like that sometimes.

Anyways, I present you with the last ~official~ chapter of this fic! It isn't totally completed yet, though, as I intent to finish this fic off with an epilogue; because things like that make me happy, and I like doing things that make my happy. Not to mention, it should clear up any lose ends that haven't been tied up via this chapter.

So, hopefully I'll get that done shortly so I can finish up this fic and get started on another.

Like always, I hope you enjoy; and thank you all endlessly for the reads/reviews/watches/favs/everything. Without it I would have lost interest and wandered off, so seriously. Thank you all, and then some!

* * *

"Dude… you're still in here?"

I'm drawn to the waking world thanks to the sound of Clyde's voice just seconds before he flips on the bathroom lights; not only am I blinded but the lights also pretty much screw any hope I might have had involving me going back to sleep. I'm more than happy to mutter incoherent blabble at him for his injustice as I sit upright and attempt to open my eyes.

While I can't exactly recall why I was sleeping on the floor in the bathroom, or much of last night for that matter; the pounding in my head suggests I was either beat upside the head with a blunt object, or that I must have been binge drinking. I run a hand through my hair; from what I can tell all the hurt is from the inside, so I must have been drinking.

"Cool you're awake now," I give Clyde a semi-awake glare due to his smart remark and notice him offering me a hand to help me up; probably to help me to my feet. "Now get out, I need to take a serious piss."

I really had no intention of moving, until he more or less told me why he woke me up. After that, I didn't hesitate to grab hold of his hand and get to my feet so I could remove myself from the bathroom. I'm pretty sure I could live the rest of my life without seeing Clyde take a piss; it's not like the floor was that comfortable anyways.

I hear the door shut behind me as I make my way into the living room; Craig is missing in action, however Token is pretended to be awake on one of the couches. Pretending as in, he's sitting upright but otherwise I think he might still be asleep.

I collapse into the free couch; toying with the idea of going back to sleep in an attempt to escape both the headache and the zombie like state I'm currently working, even if I know it won't help. I've learned from experience that hangovers are more than happy to stick around as long as they need to in order to make sure you suffer. I'm pretty sure they're supposed to make you learn your lesson, but yeah right; the only thing you learn from hangovers is not to make plans the following day.

For me at least, and maybe Token, but clearly not Clyde; as he makes his way back to the living room he's the only one out of the three of us who seems to be both awake and functioning.

"Dude, you were like… sooo wasted last night!" His noise level suggests that he's only awake to be spiteful; there's no other logical reason why someone who drank as much as I know he did could otherwise be that awake. I can tell Token and me are on the same page, because he lets out a groan while finally opening his eyes just enough to glare over at Clyde.

"That's about the only thing I –Hhng- remember from last night." I mutter at him, truthfully.

"Seriously?" He gives me this curious look that causes me to wince; it also makes me regret telling him the truth, especially if my lack of recollection can make Clyde that happy.

"Yeah, I –Ack- remember you pulling me from the bar, that's about it…" Instantly his face darkens while laughing at me; I make a mental note to never tell him the truth about anything.

"Oh man!" He stops laughing only long enough to pant a few times, before starting back up again with a grin that I already want to smack off his face, "You were so totally making out Craig in the hallway!

While it's pretty obvious Clyde is just, beyond amused by his little news flash, I can't say the same for myself. Almost instantly I can feel the color fading from my face, and I feel a little light headed; like my splitting headache isn't bad enough on its own. Now I feel dizzy, and to top it off I have something to try and think about, which is basically impossible.

"So what's up with Tweek?" Before I can even attempt to think about last night, Craig seems to have magically appeared with perfect timing; probably due to Clyde's volume level. Or just to spite me, somehow.

"He's just hung-over." Token interjects with what I assume is an attempt to make a subject change, the while giving Clyde a scolding look that goes unnoticed; either due to Clyde being Clyde, or due to him just flat out ignoring it in favor of mocking me. Neither would really surprise me.

"And he can't remember anything… you know… like how you two were making out in the hallway last night." I involuntarily let out a squeak, my eyes getting wider while my attention snaps to Craig; not that I know why, something tells me I'm the only one who took the statement as news.

"Really?" Craig glances over at me with this sly look on his face; making me really uneasy.

"Y-Yeah…" I hesitantly admit.

"Guess that means you don't remember what we did afterwards either?"

"Oh Jesus… what did we do?" Craig seems completely calm; I on the other hand can already feel a panic attack coming.

"That's a shame… we had a lot of fun." He flashes me a smile that makes me believe him, and I can't help it as my hands fly to my hair, my headache is totally forgotten due to a wave of anxiety.

"Augh, Jesus, I don't remember anything! What if I was drugged, oh God? What if I get addicted, I'll have to start sucking dick for drugs and I'll end up like some crackwhore, I'll totally get AIDS and everyone will disown me then I'll have to live on the streets until I die! Hnng, Oh my god this is too much pressure!" I can't help but spew it out, the while trembling like a lunatic.

"Dude, chill, I was only fucking with you!" Craig's giving me a funny look, like what he said was supposed to make me feel better or something.

My body more or less comes to a standstill; my face falling flat with the exception of my eye which is still twitching. Joking? Despite the fact that I feel like I've been hit by a truck and how I really want nothing more than to take a nap at the moment, I somehow find the energy to drag myself to my feet and storm silently towards the door.

I ignore whatever is being said to me as I leave the hotel with a slam of the door. Honestly, the fact that I can't remember much of last night is unnerving enough, but to the be the butt end of a joke about it is just salt in the wound. If they want to mock me that's fine, but I'm not going to sit around and listen to it too.

I make it down to the first floor and halfway through the lobby when it suddenly dawns on me; I really have no idea where I'm going, outside of the fact that I'd like to be anywhere but here right now. Harbucks would be a shoe in; if I didn't lack a sense of direction. I mean, usually I'd just wander aimlessly around until I either find the coffee or get hit by a car; but I'm pretty sure we're flying out today, finally, and my luck I'd totally get lost and get left behind while everyone else flies back home.

"Nng- Pressure…" I whine out loud, despite the fact that I'm alone and wandering in a vague circle while trying to think.

"Tweek… Fuck… There you are! Wait up dude!"

I can't help but make a noise at the sound of my name, near flinching and feeling a rising need to bolt for the door, any door. I make an attempt to just ignore it while quickening my pace, hoping maybe they'll just leave me alone; even if I'm pretty sure they won't because I'm pretty sure it's Craig, and to say the least he's nothing short of fucking relentless. Obviously, seeing as he sort of made it sound like he had been looking for me.

"Seriously dude, the fuck?" He catches up to me, naturally, sounding a little out of breathe like he had been forced to sprint to catch up to me; he probably had to due to my lack of slowing down and or stopping.

He gives me one hell of a look I can't put a name on; one that I'm trying really hard to ignore, but he catches me looking over from the corner of my eye and grabs my arm. Hesitantly I let him pull me to a stop, but I can't say I make an effort to turn and face him; instead I just stand there, looking off in the distance while he drops his hold on my arm while moving face me.

"Tweek, why are you ignoring me?" Even though I'm trying not to look at him, I still wince at the hurt sound in his voice.

"Ack- I'm not... I'm just, mad. Gah! Annoyed."

"…Why?" Despite being a simple question; he throws me off guard by asking it.

My eye twitches involuntarily while my body jerking in a light spasm; my eyes snap upwards to Craig.

"Why?" I parrot back at him calmly before a typical Tweek rant spews from my mouth, "Gee I couldn't –Agh- imagine why… maybe because you went from being pissed at me to ignoring everyone, I end up getting totally trashed because I thought you hated me… and then we apparently made out in the fucking –Hgn- hallway, not that I can even remember that at all and, Jesus! Now I have a hangover and I want some coffee but I have no idea where Harbucks is and my head hurts, and I have no idea what's going on! First Clyde was –Nng- making fun of me, then you were making fun of me… which I mean I'm glad you don't hate me but this is… too much –Gah- pressure dude…"

I wind down ramble to a stop with a short whine followed by a few deep breaths; attempting not to have a meltdown. An attempt that's successful for just a second before coming back tenfold as I feel Craig loop an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

"You know, you're rambles are strangely… endearing." Craig gives me a lopsided smile, which I whine about; my eye twitching a little. "Come on, let's get you some coffee."

"Hhng- okay." I let him lead me outside and down the street, in a direction I trust will lead me to coffee; hopefully solving at least one of many problems.

"So, you really don't remember anything from last night?" He sounds curious; I'm pretty sure I'd prefer to walk in silence over the conversation I think we're about to have.

"Not after –Ack- I left the bar." I reply while keeping my head down; watching the pavement as we walk with a fake interest.

"You want a recap then?" My eyes snap up to him despite myself, and I simply nod in response. He grins at me in this conceded Craig sort of way that suggests I chose poorly; he pulls me a little closer, probably just in case I attempt to make a run for it.

"Well for starters, you're madly in love with me," He pauses like a jackass to watch my response; I make a typical noise while my eye twitches, which seems to have appeased him because he continues on, "I'm also ridiculously jealous of you spending time with Clyde instead of me… even more so when you're drinking."

"O-oh?" That's all I can manage to spit out; he gives me an amused smile as he leans his head against mine.

"Mmh. Pretty sure that's why I had you pinned against a wall last night… among other reasons."

"Gah! Other reasons?" He turns his head slightly, more or less breathing into my ear as he laughs lightly over something.

"Reasons I can't really name off inside Harbucks. Unless you want to get kicked out, that is."

"Ack- What!" I fluster; watching Craig intently as he lets go of me in order to swing the coffee shop's door open to head inside, pausing for just a second to give me an unsettling look.

"Don't worry Tweekers… we have a flight to catch soon… I'll have plenty of time to elaborate later."

"Hngh!" I squeak out a noise as we head indoors in order to wait in line for me to get my fix. I'm happy with the silent option as we stand around waiting, which naturally means it doesn't last but more than a few minutes before Craig finds something else to talk about; I'll never understand how people can function before coffee.

"So, you mentioned something else last night too…" I give him an uneasy look; I say a lot of things when I'm shitfaced, it seems.

"Something about Token having a boner for Clyde?"

"Oh god… I said that?" I whine; fighting my desire to anxiously yank my hair out while gawking at him. This is why I hate knowing anything! I like being in the dark, there's way less pressure if I have no idea what's going on!

"Yep. Explains why Token was so eager to side with me the other night… not to mention that whole jealousy scheme." While I'm sure Craig is clever enough to have figured that out on his own; I can't help but feel like it's totally my fault. I mean, it is my fault!

"Ack! Token's totally going to kill me man!"

I seriously need coffee; like now.

* * *

By the time we make it back to the hotel, I've pretty much forgotten about Token and all the ways he could potentially kill me; thanks to a few cups of coffee and the impending fear over all the ways I could potentially die on our upcoming flight. The plane is far more terrifying then Token could ever be; hell the plane is worst then Cartman, which is saying a lot.

"What if the engine –Nng- explodes!"

"Mmh."

I'm rambling on, and I'm pretty sure Craig is just ignoring me as he leads me out of the elevator and back towards the hotel room by my hand; much like he's been doing since we left Harbucks and it dawned on me that I'd have to get on another plane soon.

"Ack! What if it runs out of fuel while we're up in the air and it crashes into the ground and THEN it explodes!"

"That would suck."

"Jesus, it would suck! I don't want to explode Craig!" He gives me a smile; dropping my hand finally so he can sling an arm around my shoulders. I make a panicky noise; giving him an equally distraught look.

"Don't worry Tweek, you're not going to explode." I don't believe him; how could he possibly know for sure that I won't! I consider explaining all of the possible ways a plane can explode but I don't get the chance as he drags me along; back into the hotel room where Token and Clyde seem to have been busy trying to pack up all the shit in our absences.

"About time you two kissed and made up… we have a flight to catch you know." Token gives us both a stern look; like we're suddenly the bane of his existence. I probably would be if I had caused him to miss his flight; though I have a feeling if that was the case he probably would just leave without me. I'm not sure which would be worst; being left behind in Las Vegas, or getting on another airplane.

"Yeah… yeah, I know. Tweek's been briefing me on all the possible ways we're not going to die while on the plane." I give him a pissy glare.

"Nng- Might die!"

He ignores me; dropping his arm to my lower back and giving me a light push in the direction of my bags. "Mmh, sure… whatever you say Mister Optimistic. Get your shit so we can catch our flight and die like we're supposed too, then."

"Oh Jesus, what?" I yelp; deep down I'm sure that was supposed to be sarcastic, but due to anxiety I can't be sure. Oh god, I hate planes; I'm never leaving South Park again.

* * *

I can do this. I can do this. I can so, hopefully do this.

My panic worsens as Craig takes his seat next to me and successfully boxes me in-between him, and the side of the plane that just so happens to have a window view; how the hell did I end up getting stuck next to a window, anyways? I fidget for a moment, my eyes darting from the window to the seat in front of me, and then back towards the window as I feel the sudden urge to act like a total masochist; leaning closer to the window in an attempt to see if life hates me enough to give me a view of the wing.

"Stop that." I jerk from surprise; my eyes snapping to Craig.

"I know what you're doing," He near scuffs while leaning over me in order to slam the window shut; killing my view of the outside world. "I've seen that episode of The Twilight Zone too, there's nothing on the wing of this plane… so don't even."

Instead of actually responding to him; I just make a Tweekesque noise as he leans back and smirks at me.

"There could be… you don't –Hgn- know that for sure." I rival, before giving a quick nervous glance to the now closed window. I'm half tempted to open it again just to be spiteful; when the plane starts to make noises, coming to life for what I dread will be the take off.

"ACK!" Instantly I've completely forget about the wings as I sink into full panic mode; subconsciously clinging to Craig's arm like it will actually make a difference when we're plummeting back to the ground in a fiery ball of metal. "AckIdontwannadie…" I know very well I'm whining, and the fact that Craig is just laughing doesn't help calm me down in the slightest.

"Once the plane actually takes off… I have an awesome way to calm you down you know." He half-whispers at me; leaning closer with a mischievous look in his eyes, causing me to whine again while my eye twitches like it usually does.

"Y-Yeah? Ah-sgh- how?"

"Oh… well if I told you now it would ruin the surprise… Let's just say, we won't be doing it out here."

For the first time in probably forever, my undivided attention snaps to Craig, while I'm at a lost for words. I know what he means; it wouldn't take an idiot to know what he means, and seeing as it's Craig I know very well he isn't joking. I'm not sure which surprises me more; the fact that he said it, or the fact that I'm surprised that he said it.

Actually; I'm unsure if I'm even surprised at all.


	14. Got My Blueprint, It's Symphonic

**A/N**: … I'm really sorry its taken me so freaking long to finish this last chapter. It really wasn't intentional, I promise. In fact I've re-written this chapter at least four times, from the ground up, and I've been whining to my friends on aim & irc constantly for the past few weeks |D… All that aside though, it's done! (Obviously! XD) This chapter, same as the 'intermission' is in **Craig's****POV**. Because my OCD won't allow me to have an even number of chapters and an uneven number of POVs.

I will also apologize to those who seem to be rather opposed to the level of alcohol consumption in this fic; however I have to say it does surprise me to some degree |D I mean, four guys of legal drinking age in 'Las Vegas'… really? That said I haven't intentionally been egging any of you on with malicious intent… it's just, you know. I'm just saying.

Lastly, I want to thank every one of you for the reads, alerts, favorites, reviews and everything in-between. I would thank everyone personally, but the thought alone is enough to send me into an anxiety attack, and I really don't enjoy sobbing in the corner. All the same words, can't express how much I appreciation everyone's support. I'm sure I'll submitting something else, sooner than later. So again, thank you thank you times, like… a million XD

* * *

So I can't be sure if my idea was actually successful at 'calming' Tweek, but if nothing else I can give myself this much: prier to us taking our seats for the plane's descent, this flight wasn't even remotely close to his thoughts. Even now as the plane is dipping downwards, he's just sitting there staring out the window; meaning one of two things to me. Either bathroom sex is the best cure for irrational paranoia ever, or by some chance he's accepted his fate and is okay with dying. I'm going to tell myself it's the first; but sometimes I'm just not content enough with assumptions.

"You worrying about crashing into the ground Tweek?" There's a pause in his reflexes before snapping out of his daze; glancing over from the window towards me, and despite my panic encouraging question; he just blinks, almost like he didn't hear me.

"Huh?" I'll consider the fact that I'm amazing, proven.

"Nothing." I smile to myself, and my ego, while tossing an arm around him. I go ahead and choose to ignore this untrusting look he's starting to give me; because, and I'm just saying here, he's still pretty chill considering we're still on the plane and all.

It doesn't take too long for the plane to land safely on the ground. You know, without crashing into it or anything. I'm sure Tweek would disagree about the length of time, but it didn't take more than about ten minutes before we were released from the plane and into the terminal. Naturally my first instinct was to find a place to smoke, and then to proceed with smoking. Just like Tweek's instincts told him to locate caffeine, and consume as much as he possibly can as quickly as possible. That is the usual order of things; however, my second instinct told me I should go with Tweek to get coffee.

I'm not exactly sure how that second thought beat my first thought, but all the same here I am; walking beside him. He seems to be just as tentative about my choice as I am; I almost feel like some sort of whipped dog. Not that I'm about to admit that to anyone though; including myself. Luckily, and this is probably one of my favorite qualities of his, I know Tweek has no intentions of calling me or my intentions out. See, we've been great friends forever for one reason above all others; neither of us ever wants to 'talk' about anything.

We never take part in heartfelt chats about feelings, emotions, underlying motives; nada. Truth be told I'm pretty sure we'll never talk about 'us'. We both acknowledge there is a thing, we gave it a test run, and then we silently accepted that we will continue on with whatever it is we're doing; end of story. Frankly I don't like expressing myself, and Tweek hates the pressure involving any choice more complex then what flavor of coffee to order. It's a win win situation for both of us, really.

Not to mention, I sort of like making choices for him; it makes me feel responsible, and important. Like, if I didn't- Tweek would just stop leaving his house altogether. I have no idea if that's true or not, but I like to tell myself that it is. Very similar to how I'm telling myself there's no pansy reason as to why I'm standing next to him of my own freewill, in the Harbucks line at the fucking airport; waiting with him to get his coffee, while I glare menacingly at the cashier. Seriously, this dude is like, way too fucking cheerful for someone who works in a coffee shop at a place most people refer to as 'hell on earth'.

As Tweek moves away to order his supersized jumbo whatever; I continue on with glaring at the cashier. I can't say I have a real reason to glare at him, but honestly? Lacking a solid reason has never stopped me from doing anything, why should glaring be any different? He pays; getting his change before we move from one stupid waiting line to the next. Randomly he makes one of his noises, and I catch him looking at me from the corner of my eyes; so I naturally look over at him.

"Hng! …what?" He twitches, eyeing me almost suspiciously; like he hasn't seen me glare at hundreds of people on a daily basis. Not to mention, he was clearly staring at me first.

"Hm?" For a second he opens his mouth like he is going to say something, before shutting it; probably deciding whatever he was going to ask wasn't going to get an answer, so why bother asking. I smirk amusingly before tossing an arm around his shoulders and tugging him closer; one of his arms falling loosely around my waist while he leans into me.

"You know… you're weird sometimes Tweekers."

"Craig, I'm –Hng!- weird all the time…" For a second he looks almost forlorn; making me feel a momentary twinge of guilt, before I suppress the feeling and roll my eyes.

"I didn't say that was a bad thing, dork." I trailing off while lifting up my free hand to tilt his face upwards me then leaning down to press my lips lightly against his own; lingering them there for a few seconds, before pulling away to smile down at him.

"I like your weird."

He gives me a look full of confusion while almost gawking at me; like I've suddenly lost my mind or something, before he shakes his head at me. He pulls away just enough to grab his coffee concoction from the coffee dude before instantly he's nursing the cup like he was about to die without it. Un-admittedly, I feel momentarily jealous of the drinks attention. Like it just suddenly became competition, and I'm losing to it.

"Come on; let's find the guys so we can get the fuck outta here." He pulls away from the coffee long enough to twitch out a nod. He reattaches himself to the cup, and then to my side, before we head back in the direction of our terminal.

Silently we backtrack to where I can only hope our bags and friends are waiting, so we can leave. Perhaps that's too much to ask, though. By the time Clyde's movements come into view, I'm pretty sure only two things have been accomplished: Tweek got coffee, and the before mentioned coffee was inhaled. This leaves us with: no coffee, not saying anyone but Tweek cares but still, no luggage, my lungs not dying, and we're still at the airport. That seems about right. I can't say any of us are what you would call productive; or responsible.

"Dude, you have to have a party." Even though Tweek and I are still a few yards away, in a noisy airport no less, I can still make out Clyde's whining perfectly.

"Oh? Why's that." Growing closer, I can vaguely hear what seems to be Token's faux-lack of agreement with Clyde.

"It's like, a law. If your parents are gone, you have to have a party." Clyde makes his statement with conviction, but before I can laugh at it, the blond at my side takes the bullshit statement seriously; how Tweek can possibly believe anything coming from Clyde is beyond me. All the same he makes a noise before digging his fingers into my side, instantly causing me to let out a painful yelp, making Tweek jump before franticly looking back and forth between Clyde and me.

"Oh Jesus… Is that really a –Hng- law?" His eye is twitching, and despite my reaction to pain; his fingers are still imbedded in my side.

"Totally!" For a brief moment it looked like that was all Clyde was going to say; until he notices the very obvious look of terror on Tweek's face. A few seconds later, he coughs before going on "… But only if you have an epic house like Token's parents, you know."

* * *

Once I actually get to my place; I spend pretty much the entire day doing nothing but sleeping. I might have gone as far as to combine that activity with hanging out with Tweek, but like the easily persuadable coffeewhore he is; his dad roped him into working until seven. Go figure, right?

It's at least eight or so by the time I pick up Tweek from Harbucks then get him back to his place to change and shit, before the two of us get around to making it over to Token's; and it's safe to say they weren't waiting for us to start. The music from inside is blaring loud enough to be heard quite well outside, and I think it's safe to say that word travels fast in small towns. Basically anyone I've ever known is either inside or out.

We slip inside and I'm leading the way as usual, with Tweek trailing behind; his attention span already lagging somewhere behind him, much to my distaste. Not that it surprises me or anything, it's only natural for someone who's easily distractible to wander off during parties; what with all the music, people, amusement, alcohol, ect.

However that's really a conflict of interest for me now; so I take his hand in my own before he gets the opportunity to stray. He raises an eyebrow at me as his attention snaps back to me, but otherwise he seems content on letting me lead him around the gatherings of people while I continue on with my search for familiar faces or alcohol; preferably alcohol.

Much to my potential dismay, the kitchen is void of life with the exception of Kenny McCormick; who is questionably in here only to grab another beer. He's cracking it open and taking a swig as he turns around to notice us standing in the doorway.

"Sup dudes?" He breaks away from the bottle long enough for a nod of his head, lifting the bottle a little higher in a 'cheers' motion, before he goes back to drinking.

"Not much," I reply stoically, suddenly more interested in what all there is to drink tonight than I am concerning company. "Is beer all we've got?" Kenny shakes his head, but all the same I detach myself from Tweek to check the fridge, just incase. As expected, there's only beer inside.

"Hm." I kind of start humming to myself, as I begin opening up cabinets in hopes of finding something harder lingering in one of them. Beers cool and all, but I'm not really feeling in the mood for an all beer night.

"So… it seems Craig's lost his mind huh?" While I'm digging around in cabinets I can hear Kenny making his little smart ass remark, as well as a soft laugh from Tweek that I'm going to pretend isn't at my expense.

"Nng- No. I don't –Hng!- I don't think he's in a beer mood." I smirk to myself while poking through another cabinets contents, snorting as I've yet to find anything of interest. I shut the doors with a thud, glancing over my shoulder at Tweek for just a moment as I move over to the next set of doors.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you Tweekers." As I turn my attention back to the cabinets, I smile to myself at the weird Tweekesque noise he makes. I usually would have made a comment about it, but my thoughts didn't get that far before I locate an assortment of bottles all serving the same inebriating purpose.

"Ah, here we go!" Grinning, I drag out one of the bottles at random; tequila it is! I'm not sure who's tequila this is, but as far as I'm concerned, it's mine now.

By the time I spin around with bottle in hand, I can't help but notice Tweek's already rummaging for shot glasses with Kenny's help now that his beer seems to have magically disappeared. I feel I made the best choice when deciding tonight was a fuck beer night.

* * *

Five shots and a beer or something later, I'm feeling the need to smoke. Sadly seeing as Token's not nearly drunk enough to let me smoke inside, I'm left with one option. I wander outside to the patio accordingly, leaving the door nice and open. I figure, if he wants it shut he should let me smoke indoors. That way, it wouldn't have been open in the first place. I take a moment to find both cigarettes and a lighter, before lighting one up and leaning against the side of the house to enjoy my smoke in silence.

Silence that lasts all of a minute. Shortly after letting out a cloud of smoke, I hear the door I left open slam shut followed by the sound of someone coming to destroy my silence. I glance over just in time to see Kenny stopping to light up a smoke, then continuing with his trek over; flopping against the brick a few feet next to me.

"So, ahh… how was Vegas dude?" He gives me a side glance while taking a drag.

"Eh..." I shrug; exhaling with a smoke, "It was alright."

"...Yeah?" One of his eyebrows raise; I'm guessing my simple response wasn't enough to fend off his curiosity.

"Yeah. I mean, we drank a shitload... I made some cash, I swear, no one there could gamble for shit." I take a drag, pausing while trying to think back. A few seconds pass before I exhale with a laugh, "I did teach Tweek how to play poker." I give a glance to Kenny as he laughs amusingly. I smirk at him; flicking away my butt.

"Seriously!" He laughs with a cloud of smoke, "That's amazing... Shit, I can't get Kyle near anything gambling related. He's always all like, fuck you Ken! I'm not going too turn into my dad!"

"I'd be more worried about him turning into his mom... if I were you." I can't hold back this shitty grin while Kenny makes this face that suggests he got an unforgettable mental image. He shudders; taking in a lungful of smoke before tossing the butt out in the snow. In what I can foresee as an obvious attempt to change the subject, he looks back to me almost curiously.

"So speaking of other halves, I couldn't help but notice you were being extra clingy to a particular blond." He pauses for a second, and then lowers his gaze while grinning like an idiot. "Lemme guess, poker isn't the only thing you taught Tweekers over in Vegas?"

"Well, more like on the return flight…" I offer like a smart ass while shrugging nonchalantly, "But yeah, you could say that."

"Seriously? Nice dude… nice!"

Not a second later, almost like on queue, the patio door loudly swings open before promptly being slammed shut. Right away, both Kenny and I glance curiously in the doors direction; seconds later a incredibly drunk Kyle wanders over to us, with his arms folded across his chest but otherwise just looking, drunk. It almost looks like he was all ready to be pissed about something, but forgot.

"Heey, there you are Ken! I was looking for you!"

Kenny just grins at the remark; keeping his eyes locked on his boyfriend while lifting up an arm briefly, then tossing it around Kyle's shoulders as his body more or less collides into Kenny's; Gotta love how alcohol slaughters basic motor functions.

"Awww… I feel loved Ky!" He takes a second to tug Kyle a little closer, kissing him briefly on the forehead before turning back to me with that almost shady grin on his face.

"I bet you Tweek's not looking around for you!" His teasing tone makes me pretty sure that was a stab for when I gave him a mental image of Kyle being like his mom.

That's not to say I didn't glower over at him all the same; on principle if nothing else. If I was given the chance, I probably would have given him a smartass remark about it; but I wasn't given the chance. Shortly after Kenny's comment and my 'if only looks could kill' glare; Kyle starts laughing at seemingly nothing. Naturally I forget all about being a smart ass, in favor of looking at the redhead like he's lost his mind.

"Nope he's totally not looking for anyone." He shakes his head overdramatically, with a strange amount of confidence for both a random statement and for someone who's clearly plastered. "He's in the kitchen, in a heated game of who can drink the most without spewing, or dying."

Kyle pauses for a moment; looking about as serious as a drunken person can, before adding, "I just came from the game, I totally forfeited.." Again, he pauses for just a second before cracking up. "Hey Kenny."

"Yeah?" He's giving this look like he's about to start questioning Kyle's sanity as well.

"… I totally lost the game." Within a second, they're both laughing like idiots and I can't fight the deadpan expression on my face; here I thought Kyle was the smart one. Clearly, I was mistaken.

While they're clearly amusing themselves; I take the opportunity to peel myself from the wall, making my way around them and then head back indoors. I figure, I'm due for some more alcohol. Not to mention I should probably find out if Tweek is holding his own, or if I'll be making a trip to the hospital in the near future.

Much to my surprise my blond is in fact not dead, and much to my amusement he's still sitting at Token's kitchen table with three others; Clyde, Cartman, and Stan. I'm sure at some point they were probably standing; but I'm still feeling oddly proud of him all the same. Not a second after making it inside the kitchen, I hear a bottle being popped open before it magically appears in front of me.

For a second I stare at it like an idiot, before taking it; Glancing to the side to notice that it didn't appear. Token had been holding it out from his spot against the fridge, where he's apparently drunk and watching his friends make assholes out of themselves; which sounds good to me. I take a swig from the bottle, silently leaning against the counter next to the fridge to watch while Stan takes his turn to fill the shot glasses.

"Here we go!" There's a slight pause while all four lift their glasses, "Post time!"

Almost in sequence there's clanking of glasses on the table top, before everyone in the vicinity of the game stills to see if anyone goes down. Or I guess, if anything comes up.

By the time it took me to lift up my beer; I can already tell Cartman is about to go down. Approximately one second passes before his face starts to flush with a green tint. He bolts up from the table with speed and agility I wasn't aware he possessed, before nearly sprinting from the kitchen and off towards the nearest bathroom.

Tweek chuckles, still at the table; slinging a hand to the bottle and wrapping his fingers around it. "One down… two to go." As he's sloppily filling the shot glasses, I can't help myself from feeling proud of him. Like him drinking like a champ was somehow my doing; you know, retrospectively, it probably was.

Silently this time, the glasses come up and they drink. I swear the second the tequila hits Stan's mouth, he's out of the game. His glass falls to the table with a splash of liquor as one hand flies to cover his mouth, the other sort of flailing around; I'm guessing that means he's officially done. He doesn't waste any time in getting to his feet and breaking in the direction of the bathroom.

As Stan flees from the kitchen, a few of the bystanders laugh; a few others making 'dramatic side effect' noises as the two left at the table get ready to square off. Clyde takes the bottle this time, pouring their shots while I notice Kenny wandering into the kitchen from the corner of my eye; sans a particular redhead, whom I'm sure went off to make sure his 'super best friend' is just puking his guts out instead of like, dying.

"I see only two of them are left..." Mr. Obvious points out while trashing an empty bottle then proceeding to wedge Token from the fridge door so he can grab another.

"Who ya think is gonna win?" Kenny asks, to no one in particular as he pops the cap off of his freshly retrieved bottle.

"Pft Clyde... Obviously." Token murmurs from the side of me, getting my attention immediately after his stupid remark.

"Yeah right, like Tweek is going to lose to Clyde... Whatever man." I scuff; eyeing him competitively as I polish off my beer, chunking it in the trash and glancing back to the table just as another shot is being downed.

A minute passes without either of them wavering, and while waiting I grab another beer from the fridge. I can't say I know exactly how shots have been taken thus far, but I'm pretty sure it counts for a lot. Both Clyde and Tweek are troopers when it comes to drinking; regardless of the fact that the skill came from force or from freewill. Currently they're both looking less then enthusiastic, and as Tweek's pouring their next shots about as much liquor gets on the table as it does in the glasses; which speaks volumes to me.

For the sake of it, I feel it's time the game comes to an end. I give a quick nudge to Token with my elbow; coughing lightly while smirking.

"You know… Clyde is sooo going down dude, come on Tweek! Make me proud!" Tweek slants his head to the side; attempting to glare at me, I think.

"Pft, yeah right. Come on Clyde… do you really want Tweek to drink you under the table?" Token's trying hard to fight off a smile; even more so as Clyde sort of gawks over at him. I, though, make no attempt whatsoever to stop myself from grinning like an idiot.

"Uh huh, Clyde is so going to crash and burn. Dude… Tweekers, you win and I'll buy you all the coffee you want for like… a month!"

"Resorting to bribery huh?" Token smirks at me before looking back over towards the table, "Clyde, dude… win this to prove this asshole wrong and I'll give you whatever you want."

Up until this point I'm pretty sure the clueless duo sitting at the table really hadn't the vaguest clue of what was going on, but I'm pretty sure they get it now.

"Whatever I want… huh, Toke?" Clyde's expressions turn almost dark while grinning over at us, "Because I can totally think of a… few things I wouldn't mind you 'giving' me."

A few of us lingering in the kitchen laugh, and I glance at Token from the corner of my eyes; I swear I can almost see a hint of red on his face. I'm sure I could drop this topic now, but what kind of friend would I be if I did that? Sure this is a brash almost improvisational way of forcing this topic into light, but hey; what are friends for?

"Oh well, shit… I mean for the sake of getting Clyde laid…" I grin slyly over at Token; completely ignoring the glower he's shooting me before I give my attention back to my blond. "… Maybe you should take a dive Tweekers."

Keeping his eyes on me; Tweek's biting his lower lip to keep himself from laughing while he casually sweeps his hand across the table top; knocking his shot glass over the side of the table. There's a few second lapse before he finally turns back to Clyde, looking at him for a second then adverting his eyes to the table briefly, before glancing back up at Clyde; his hands coming upwards as he shrugs in defeat.

"… Seems like I can't find my drink… oh man." His hands go back to the table edge; using it as leverage to pull himself up out of the chair with a wobble. He takes a few seconds in an attempt to straighten himself out, before walking over to me. I slip an arm around his waist as he leans against me; giving him a light kiss on the lips and pulling him closer as I bounce a glance between Clyde and Token.

"Well Clyde, I guess you take that shot and you win dude." I shoot a quick devious look to Token, who instantly looks like he wants to kill me, "Or I guess you'd both win, huh Toke?"

Token flusters silently, while I can't help but let out a silent laugh; glancing over towards Clyde while I do.

"Oh well… I mean, how can I turn you down, Toke?" He states it matter-of-factly, sounding almost happy to inform while he's lifting the shot glass and downing his victory shot; looking almost pained as he did so, but sucking it down all the same.

I consider that enough of a queue for us to make our leave. My half finished beer is chunked in the trashcan while I pull away from the counter I've been leaning against; tugging Tweek along with me as I exit the kitchen and head off in the direction of the front door. As I lead the way outside and down the driveway, Tweek is basically clinging to me as if his life was depending on it, and while I'm sure that's because he's beyond shit-faced; I let my ego tell itself otherwise.

"So, did you have fun tonight?" I ask, pretty much rhetorically; as I'm pretty sure he's drank enough tonight to not remember one way or another. He simply nods at first, not bothering to say anything; smiling lopsidedly while he slips away from my hold to lean against the bumper of my truck.

"I can't remember… but it's alight, a-alright!" I also choke while lighting up a smoke and attempting to laugh at the same time.

"You know," I exhale with a stream of smoke; leaning against my truck next to him, "I really do love it when you speak in Gaga." His nose wrinkles for a second as he attempts to make a questionable face at me. He gives up a second later, smiling instead as he bumps against me; settling to rest there.

"Control your poison babe." At first, I just smoke silently; sucking in a last lungful before tossing the butt out in the street. I turn slightly to watch Tweek with mild amusement, a cocky smirk on my face.

"I ain't gon' give it up, steady… and try to pick it up like a car." I can barely keep myself from laughing as he pulls off my side. He's giving me a suggestive glare while moving to stand in front of me, leaning back against me with his hands loosely on my chest with his face in the crook of my neck; I can't help but note that he smells like a mix between coffee and a tequila distillery, but I'm not sure if it's a good or bad combination.

"Hey… I got it, just stay close enough to get it.." He trails off while almost mumbling it into my neck.

"Now… there's no reason at all why you can't leave here with me, yeah?" Almost instantly he's laughing against my neck; and I can't help but shake my head at him. Dork; that's the only word I can think of right now.

"I got it."

I swear to… he's such a mess.

I guess I'm okay with that, though; I can deal.

**/End.**


End file.
